


Strangers Like Them

by FlameOf



Series: The Heart of Matters [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Also some goofiness, Female Agents 4 & 8, Hints to death before story, Hurt and comfort, Male Agent 3, Many Flashbacks, Maybe a little amount of character deaths, Multi, Pre-Established Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-11-27 16:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 76,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameOf/pseuds/FlameOf
Summary: Inkopolis is a place where you never know what might happen. You can never truly say you know a person, until their ordeals are brought to light. Whether they are today's friends or enemies, you may yet learn that, deep inside, we are all the same: broken, yet whole when together.





	1. Of Red and Blue

The nature of those known as Inklings and those known as the Octarians is the nature of the sport known as 'Turf War'. It wasn't all fun and games in the beginning, by no means. One hundred years ago, the branching evolutionary lines of the cephelopods, the Inklings and Octarians, fought over the dwindling land and resources of the world. In the end, the Inklings managed to win, thanks in part to some foolish sucker on the other side accidentally unplugging the wrong thing.

Regardless, several centuries after the event known as the Great Turf War, Inkling society flourished, and Turf Wars became a thing of sport. Like soccer, only with real action, and people being allowed to get hit without penalty. Unless it was biting, but let's not go down _that_ road.

One hundred years after the original Turf War, the ruler of the Octarians and one of their branched evolutions, the Octolings, stole from the Inklings the Great Zapfish, which was used to power the grand city of Inkopolis. Through the efforts of an Inkling known only as Agent Three of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, the Octarian menace that was lead by DJ Octavio was thwarted, with the populace of Inkopolis being none the wiser.

Then, two years after that, Octavio tried again. And failed. Because that's what happens when you mess with the Squidbeak Splatoon. During that time, however, there was a sort of... revolution, let's say, among the Octarian species. Specifically, the Octolings, and how they were touched by the song known as the Calamari Inkantation. Basically, it was a bunch of teenagers running away from home because dad wasn't 'fresh enough', whatever that meant.

Regardless, the Octolings began to integrate themselves into Inkling society, to a surprising amount of success. Of course, that was mostly to do with the fact that the average Inkling actually doesn't know what an Octoling looks like. To them, the Octolings are just Inklings with wacky hair styles. Those that known of the Octolings are also those that know of their change after the Inkantation, and those that later realised they were Octolings had already concluded that they were good people, and decided not to bring it up. You know, like friends do.

Naturally, there were still those that were not down with the idea of co-habitation with people that were once their sworn enemies, but those numbered in the few and far between. Most of the time.

Regardless of how one looks at it, though, the society of Inkopolis, and all of the world, teeters on the edge of utopia and anarchy. This, is but a few of those many stories.

* * *

 A lone Octoling ducked behind the inflatable cover, breathing heavily but steady. This was a rather typical situation for a Turf War, being cornered down middle of Moray Towers, one team mate down, and the other two trying to flank left and right.

This particular Octoling had a pair of dull blue eyes, and was dressed rather heavily, with a dark long-coat -Navy Eminence Jacket-, a pair of wooden sandals -...Wooden Sandals...-, and finished with a blue, wide cone hat -Bamboo Hat-. In her hands was her weapon of preference, the standard issue Heavy Splatling.

Peeking around the corner, the Octoling quickly pulled back as a rouge Charger shot went past. A Custom E-liter 4K Scope, at that. Perfect. Just what the squidding doctor ordered.

The indicator for a Super Jump appeared next to her. Good, meant that team mate has just respawned and is heading her way. The red line of the Charger was being aimed over her cover, keeping track of her team mates trajectory. Not good. If the past minute and a half was anything to go by, that Charger user was a crack shot. Unfortunately for them, however, the Octoling was rather cunning herself.

The exact moment her ally was within range of the Charger, the shot was fired. In response, though, the Octoling lobbed her sub weapon, an Ink Sprinkler, into the line of fire, perfectly intercepting the shot. It wasn't an easy strategy to pull off, but not many people were Agent Eight, or Eighter, as she had come to prefer.

Her team mate finally landed. He was a male Inkling of around average height and blue eyes, carrying what was by far the most ridiculous weapon in all of Inkopolis; a Squeezer (Foil branded, specifically). On top of that, he was dressed in what was known as the Old-Timey set, consisting of a white hat, black glasses, a green jacket, silver headphones around the neck, and a pair of black slip-ons. It was only fitting, then, that such a squid was named Timey.

“Thanks for the cover, Eighter,” he spoke. Timey had one of those voices that let a person known they were instantly trust-able. Of course, such a mindset to have for any cephelopod was rather dangerous, but then again, there were some surprising exceptions to the rules.

“Just don't expect that service every time, Timey,” Eighter replied. “You should have jumped to Deej or Shades, helped them flank.”

“And leave you alone on the front lines? Not a chance.” Yup. Timey was just that sort of person.

“Yo, Splat-birds! Ya mind comin' up with a plan right now?” the voice of a male Octoling, Deej, took the two from their conversation. Deej was a rather curious looking Octoling, with green eyes, a tentacle hair-style that amounted to an afro -how the heck anyone pulled that off was beyond Eighter's understanding-, and dressed in an Anchor Life Vest, a pair of Hero Headphones Replicas, and a pair of Angry Rain Boots. His weapon of choice, at least for this match, was the Dark Tetra Duelies. “Hate ta be that guy, but we've half a minute left!”

“I'm going to agree with him on this one,” an Inkling girl -and their final team member- by the name of Shades shouted as she flung a series of bubbles from her Slosher (Bloblobber style). Her tentacles were kept short, and the only thing of note about her attire was the pair of 18K Aviators she wore -everything else was standard beginner equipment-. “We've our backs against the wall as it is.”

Eighter pondered for a brief second, before an idea struck. “Then all we can do is push forward.”

Timey tried to ask what she was on about, but understood immediately when she pulled forth a rather sizeable weapon from the inky Aether. Specials, as they are known by, are powerful weapons much akin to sub weapons, only they require time to charge. In Eighter's case, the Special she pulled forth was a long barrelled rifle attached to a massive ink canister, known as the Sting Ray.

And one of its major properties, you might ask? Wall piercing ink beam.

The plan was simple and obvious: divide and conquer. Aiming the Sting Ray at the wall that kept the foes at bay, Eighter held the trigger.

* * *

 “Man, what a game!”

To say that Timey was feeling good right now would be an understatement. Then again, he was always like this whenever there was a close match. Eighter and co. simply learned how to deal with it. “Ya kidding? The only way we pulled that off was with Eight-balls quick thinking!” Deej responded, seeming not to notice Eighter's slight twitch.

“Aw, it wouldn't have been that bad,” Timey stated. “I mean, even with our backs to the wall, we still had fun, right?”

Shades gave a small sigh, though it felt as if it were mixed with a laugh. “Well, leave it someone like you to always see the bright side, right?”

Timey gave a cheeky, toothy grin. “Well, I'm about ready to call it a day,” the young Inkling said, “how about you three?”

“Seconded,” Shades said first, already departing the group.

“Yeah, need to check in with my homies,” Deej replied. “Eighter, how 'bout you?”

Eighter pulled her phone out, checking the time. “I've still got an hour to kill before I meet up with a friend of mine,” she explained, “so I'm probably going to hop back in for another game.”

“Sounds fun,” Timey said cheerfully. “Whelp, see ya tomorrow, then!”

And like the wind in a valley, the group had gone their separate ways for the day. This was basically routine at this point. Meet up, do some Turf Wars, shoot the squit, and go home.

Eighter much preferred it, truth be told. It was certainly better than the Metro, that was for certain.

Regardless, there was still time to pass, so she turned back around, and re-entered the lobby.

* * *

 Octo Valley, located directly underneath Inkopolis (somehow), was a place that spanned for mile upon miles. A fitting place for two factions to wage a war in the past.

Four, as she had come to be known as, found this place to be a cruel reminder of what could go wrong if her guard was dropped.

Well, it might be more accurate to say that everything these days was such a reminder.

Four did not like to think she was fundamentally speciest, heck, some of her good friends were non-cephalopods, but she could not deny the fact that she held a general dislike for anything Octarian. Perhaps it was the upbringing, being raised in a family who had lost many a member in the Great Turf War. Maybe it was their more present day actions, such as stealing Zapfish and squidnapping one of the famous Squid Sisters for their nefarious deeds.

Regardless of what the cause was, Four was no fan of Octarians, and by extention, Octolings. She may not have been the only one to have that sentiment overall, but among the Squidbeak Splatoon, she was a loner in that regard.

A familiar splatting sound was heard from the grating that connects Inkopolis to Octo Valley. She turned around to see... “Oh. It's just you.”

A male Inkling, at least two years older than her, dressed in somewhat older Hero Gear, and topped off with a tattered grey cloak. “Ah, the cold shoulder as always,” he said chipperly, hardly phased by Four's distasteful tone. “It's good to see you too, Four.”

Four let out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Just stop acting so chummy, Three.”

Agent Three, her 'immediate better' in regards to the Splatoon, was an annoying friendly person. This blue eyed Inkling with the top-knot in his tentacles seemed to make it his business to make sure just about everyone has a reason to smile on any given day. Most people found him to be rather endearing. Four just found him to be rather up himself.

“Guess some things just won't change,” Three stated, before giving a friendly wave to the imprisoned Octavio in the distance, who seemed to... wave back? So he was being chummy with the enemy now?

Well, Four couldn't care less. The field upon which she grew all the damns she gave on the matter of who Three is friends with had long since gone barren.

Sighing heavily, Four slung her Charger over her shoulder. “I should be getting back. It's late, and if I stay around that bastard any longer, I might kill something.”

“You do that, then,” Three said. “Besides, I doubt you'd actually kill a person. You don't seem like the type of girl to do that.”

Four gave him a sharp glare. “You know, Three,” she began, “you should really consider who your friends are. You never know who might stab you in the back.”

“Oh, I know,” Three replied. “I think you give others too little credit, though.”

Four let out a harumph of discontent, a sound that most people were, funnily enough, discontented with. With not a word extra, Four left through the grating.

Three let out a small sigh. “You know, I'd really wish she'd open up a bit more.”

“Asking the impossible, Squid,” Octavio shouted from his glassy prison. “Heck, when I fought her, she was nothing like you.”

“It's not that I want her to be like me,” Three retorted. “I just... I just think she might have a better time with a different perspective.”

Octavio cackled lightly. “Preaching to the choir, there.”

“I guess so,” Three muttered, before pulling something out of his satchel. “In any case, I brought you some more music, like you asked.”

“No more of Cuttlefish's grandkids, right?” Octavio pressed, as the CD was placed in his tank. “There's only so much of that flippin' Inkantation I can take.”

Three gave a light chuckle. “Don't worry, I got you something newer.”

Octavio grabbed the CD as it floated to eye level. “Off the Hook? Never heard of 'em.”

“They're not that recent,” Three explained, “only really coming on the scene a year and a bit ago. Heck, the singers are actually good friends of mine.”

Octavio gave the boy a look. “You know, for a little scrap Craig picked up off the side of the road for his Splatoon, you sure know a lot of people in the music industry.”

As Octavio placed the CD in the player built into the base of his prison (one of many perks allowed to him), Three chuckled slightly. “Well, I guess some things just work out that way.”

The CD began to spin, and the first song played.

**Ebb and Flow.**

An upbeat piano started the song off, before dropping into a techno rhythm. “Oh?” Octavio muttered. “There's a rather hefty amount of Octarian style in this group.”

“Just give it a moment.”

Then the lyrics hit.

“ _Blast off!”_

“ _Give it all!”_

“ _Hey Hey!”_

“ _Don't give up and listen!”  
“Don't give up and listen!”_

Octavio's eyes immediately went wide. “That's... Marina Ida?!”

Three looked at the DJ king with warm surprise. “I had a feeling you might, but you actually recognise her?”

“How could I not? Ida was an absolute prodigy back in the day.” Octavio's voice took on a tone that was heavy with reminiscence. “Heck, we'd've had more of the Octoweapons repaired the second time around if she had been there.”

Three silently thanked the Inkantation for at least getting Marina away from Octarian society before that happened. He checked his watch briefly. “Good heavens, is that the time?” he exclaimed. “I've got to get going. The captain said he wanted us to finish up 'that place' today.”

Octavio raised a brow at the Inkling. “That place? What place are you talking about?”

“The Deepsea Metro,” Three answered. “We found a lot of weird stuff down there, including some group called...”

“Kamabo,” Octavio spat. “Felt like that hell hole would come up at some point.”

Three was not surprised that he knew of the Kamabo Group. He was, however, surprised by how much venom was in his voice just from uttering its name. “Not a fan, by the sounds of it.”

“Were it in my power,” Octavio began, “I would have dubstomped that group years ago.” There was a brief, sombre pause. “Do me a favour, would ya?” he asked. “When you're down there, ya mind keeping an ear open for an up and coming dj called Dedf1sh?”

“Dedf1sh?” Three muttered. “Sure thing, but do you mind if I ask why?”

“It's...” Octavio paused. “It's just a personal matter. I'll tell ya more another time.”

It was rather unusual for Octavio to use that sort of reason for not telling something. Regardless, Three nodded. “Alright. I'll keep an ear to the ground for you.”

* * *

 Her hour had passed, and Eighter left the lobby feeling... rather displeased.

There was absolutely no coordination between the slapped together team she was on. Not to mention the fact that she was on a team with three Chargers. Three! How's a Splatling main suppose to get anything done when her team's focusing in splatting the enemy rather than covering ground?

With a sigh, Eighter took a seat at the first free table she found. Pulling out her phone, she noticed she had one missed message.

**MC Princess:** Jst dropd Reena off @ place. B thr soon.

Eighter chuckled slightly. It was totally like her to short-hand a text like that.

“Get stood up on ya date or something?” someone spoke suddenly. Without reacting, Eighter turned her gaze to the male that took one of the free seats on her table.

“Deej,” she regarded her friend. “To answer that; no. She just texted me saying she's on her way.”

“You're not denying it's a date, though.”

Eighter noticed the smirk on Deej's face, and raised one of her own. “Well, even if I did deny it, you probably wouldn't believe it. So why try?”

Deej laughed slightly. “Alright, ya got me. But in all seriousness, who are ya waiting for?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Eighter answered. “Just give it a moment or two, and you'll see.”

The moment she stopped talking, a particularly familiar holographic circle appeared on the rim of Eighter's hat. “Hey, um. I don't know how to tell ya this,” Deej spoke, “but I think someone's about ta Superjump onto ya head.”

“Yeah, that'd be her.” What proceeded to happen within the next five seconds could only truly be appreciated in slow-mo.

Second 1: Eighter leaned back in her chair, using her feet to push herself out.

Second 2: She proceeded to do a flip once she was in the air.

Second 3: The Inkling whom was currently Superjumping was caught mid-flight by Eighter.

Second 4: Eighter, with the pink Inkling in a not-suffocating-but-still-somewhat-tight hug, did one more flip, because why not.

Second 5: She stuck the landing, as her chair rocked back into its previous position.

Was the entire thing really necessary? No. Did Eighter believe it was necessary? Probably. Was it an awesome sight to witness from barely two metres away? Yes.

Holding the surprisingly small Inkling at arms length, Eighter gave an amused smile. “Really trying to make that entrance, aren't you?”

“You know it, girl!” the Inkling stated.

Deej blinked in surprise. Not at the stunt that had just been pulled, but at the sound of the Inkling's voice. “I know that voice,” he muttered. “Aren't you...”

The Inkling took notice of Deej. “Ah, he a friend of yours?” she asked, to which Eighter nodded. “Well, a friend of yours is a friend of ours!” The Inkling leapt from Eighter's arms, shifted in mid-air, and...

“Holy Squid, you're...”

The Inkling -short though she was- quickly clamped Deej's mouth shut. “Yeah, I know I'm Pearl,” she stated. “Try not to blow my cover, yeah?”

Deej obeyed, but still could not believe what he was seeing. Off the Hook, as far as bands go, was a shining beacon for the Octolings that migrated into Inkopolis society. They were living proof that Inklings and Octolings could work together without fail. Before, there was a question on whether Pearl was aware of the Octoling presence. This was answered when, one day, she was seen wearing a shirt that read 'I know' in Octarian script. Safe to say, that won her many, _many_ fans in the Octoling communities.

The fact that she also bought several apartment buildings so that Octolings could live comfortably on minimum rent? Forget being an idol, Pearl was a Cod damned saint to them.

And here she was, in the flesh, talking to Eighter like nobodies business. He wondered briefly what they were meeting up for.

“So, Eighter,” Pearl started, “how's the injuries holding up?”

Injuries? This was news to Deej. “Pretty well, actually,” Eighter responded. “Thanks to that cream Marina made, I'd say I'm good for today's trial.”

“Hold on, yo,” Deej interrupted. “Injuries? Trial? Whatchu talkin' 'bout, girls?”

Eighter had a look on her face as if remembering where she left an item she was looking for. “Oh, right, I haven't told you or Shades about it, have I?” A small part of Deej's mind was thankful she specified him and Shades, and not 'you guys', meaning that Timey at least knew to some extent. “A few months ago, I was in a rather... dangerous situation. It resulted in a lot of wounds on my back. While it was healing, I had to keep my back in a certain posture, which happened to coincide with how a person would hold a Heavy Splatling.”

“Wait, that's why you mained the Splatling?” Deej exclaimed.

“You know it,” Pearl answered. “So, today, we're planning on getting her some more weapons. See if she can't get comfortable with something that doesn't weigh a ton and a half.”

Deej mused the idea for a moment. “A'ight, then. I'll tag along, if that's fine.”

“Hell yeah!” Pearl shouted. “Ain't nothing wrong with that.”

Eighter allowed herself a smile. It was plainly obvious to her that Deej and Pearl were birds of a feather.

Honestly, though, she wouldn't have it any other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Splatoon. Easily one of my all time favourite IPs, to come out in the last decade, and I've only really been playing since December 2018. I think that really says something about just how enjoyable it is. That's off topic, though.  
> Strangers like Us! This fic! Which you've probably read this part of, if you're reading this! If not... I don't know what to say if you are reading the notes before the fic itself. But if you are, then... go you, I guess. Stick it to general reading practices.  
> Now, purpose! Focus of this fic! Thing-stuff!  
> Anyway. The main focus here is simply 'tales of the Agents'. Basically, the past and present events revolving around Agents 3, 4, and 8. There will be plenty of our favourite idols, but the agents are our main focus here. The Squid Sisters and Off the Hook have their own fic in the works for this chronology.  
> Also, yes, I am going with a male Agent 3. Why? Because it's not often done, I've found.  
> Well, let's leave all that here, get back to the next part, and finish this off with a little something from the manga:
> 
> Inkling Almanac:
> 
> Eighter (F):  
> Weapon: Heavy Splatling/Variable.  
> Headgear: Bamboo Hat.  
> Body: Navy Eminence Jacket.  
> Feet: Wooden Sandals.  
> Note about gear setup: Meant to convey the image of a ronin (a samurai without a lord or master).  
> Note about character: Considers her amnesia to be a blessing in disguise. Could legitimately not care less about a persons past.
> 
> Timey (M):  
> Weapon: Squeezer/Other shooters.  
> Headgear: Old-Timey Hat.  
> Body: Old-Timey Clothes.  
> Feet: Old-Timey Shoes.  
> Note about gear setup: Claims to wear it in order to match with a friend of his.  
> Note about character: Was once part of a team capable of punching above their weight, but refuses to say anything about it. Despite his best attempts, the team knows he has a girlfriend, but they don't know who it actually is. Tends to put others needs before his own.
> 
> Shades (F):  
> Weapon: Bloblobber.  
> Headgear: 18K Aviators.  
> Body: Basic Tee.  
> Feet: Cream Basics.  
> Note about gear setup: Contrary to believe, she has never actually spent money on gear. The shades are sort of a family heirloom.  
> Note about character: Easily the most secretive person on the team. Rarely refers to people by name.
> 
> Deej (M):  
> Weapon: Dark Tetra Duelies.  
> Headgear: Hero Headphones Replica.  
> Body: Anchor Life Vest.  
> Feet: Angry Rain Boots.  
> Note about gear setup: While he got most of his gear through working for Grizzco, the headphones were a gift of friendship from Timey. They are his prized possession.  
> Note about character: Despite being an aspiring musician (inspired by Off the Hook, and more specifically Pearl), Deej has no talent for lyrics. He still has a small fanbase, though, on account of some people enjoying the raw passion he puts into his work. Currently has a running book on who Timey's girlfriend is. 
> 
> Agent 3 (M):  
> Weapon: Hero Shot (Old).  
> Headgear: Hero Headset.  
> Body: Hero Jacket.  
> Feet: Hero Runner.  
> Note about gear setup: Is there really a need?  
> Note about character: Has a strange fondness for pickled foods. The most likely to do something stupid in the name of making others happy.
> 
> Agent 4 (F):  
> Weapon: Hero Slosher.  
> Headgear: Hero Headphones.  
> Body: Hero Hoodie.  
> Feet: Hero Snowboots.  
> Note about gear setup: ...Really?  
> Note about character: Has a strong dislike for Octarians, and an even stronger hatred for the fact that she has that first hatred. She's an odd one.


	2. Dark Recesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within the dark, history can easily be expunged. With truth, however, comes those that fret about 'was' and 'what if'.

Within the depths of the Deepsea Metro, agent duo of Three and Four stood back to back as they checked the two divergent paths of the hall. Agent Three kept his trusted Hero Shot close, while Agent Four was armed with the Hero Slosher.

“East hall, clear,” Three stated plainly.

“West hall, clear,” Four parroted. She tapped the comm-unit attached to her Hero Suit. “This is Agents Three and Four, reporting in. Agent One, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Agent Four,” Agent One responded chipperly. “Agent Hyperfish and I have finished scouting out this floor.”

Another voice, slightly more timid than Agent One, let out a sound of confusion. “Wait, am I Agent Hyperfish?”

Three gave a slight chuckle, breaking his previous demeanour. “Just humour Callie, Marina. She really likes the whole 'secret codename' thing.”

“Three!” Agent One, aka Callie, let out a whine that mixed annoyance, amusement, and affection. “You know the reason we do this is because Four's all stuffy about 'protocol'!”

“Because any organisation needs a modicum of responsibility,” Four responded, “and for something as secretive -sorry, supposedly secretive- as the Squidbeak Splatoon, the usage of codenames is a necessity.”

Callie let out a boo of displeasure. “How'd Marie handle having you as an agent? You're such a bore.”

“Now now, miss Callie,” Marina spoke. “Let's just agree that miss Four is more of a professional mindset than the rest of us.”

Three laughed along at the back and forth that had quickly developed between the two. Four, on the other hand, immediately put her radio away. “You're not going to listen in?” Three asked.

“The less I hear from an Octarian, the better,” Four replied. “Why you felt the need to bring one along is beyond my understanding.”

“Come on, Four, Marina's a good person,” Three stated bluntly. “Don't you think you're being a little unfair to her? Or to other Octolings?”

Four didn't respond, and kept walking down the long halls. Three let out a sigh as he jogged to keep up. “Doing alright there, Three?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, just...” Three paused to find the right words. “Having an ally not listen to important information... it reminds me of a rather unpleasant situation two years ago.”

“During the first Octarian invasion?” Marina asked. Having been on the 'wrong' side of that conflict was a weird feeling for all, but Three's positive demeanour help break that barrier.

“Yeah. You might actually remember hearing about it,” Three continued. “It was one of the Splatoon's only group operations...”

* * *

  _Two years ago._

Agent Three took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He'd never expected to be this deep into Octarian territory, but here he was.

“Agent Three, you read me?” the elderly voice of one Captain Craig Cuttlefish spoke through his headset.

“I hear you, sir,” he responded. Cuttlefish was the one who recruited him upwards of a month ago, saying he had promise as an operative.

“Good, then let's begin the debriefing.” According to the captain, the other two agents, One and Two, were also in this location. It must have been a rather large mission, if all three were needed. “The Octarians have a base set up inside this particular Dome,” -Domes were the places that the Octarians live, since they have no settlements on the surface- “and in order to power it, they have three Zapfish in the generator room. Agents One and Two will focus on retrieving the Zapfish. Agent Three, we need you to look into information about any other Domes that might have any dangerous Octoweapons.”

“For all our safety, we'll need to maintain radio silence,” the voice of Agent Two spoke. “We've no idea how many guards they might have posted here.”

As the radio switched off, Agent Three couldn't help but feel as though he'd heard Agent Two's voice before. The same could be said about the few times he'd heard Agent One speak. He just couldn't, for the life of him, place where he'd heard them before.

* * *

 The upper floors of the Domes main building was, much to Three's surprise, sparse of guards.

Somehow, that worried the agent even more than if the place was crawling with Octo-troopers. Were they just that confident that an Inkling wouldn't get this far?

On top of all that, there was the smell of this place. He couldn't quite give it a proper descriptor, but it seemed... clean. Sanitised, perhaps.

Rounding the next corner, Three pulled back as he noticed a lone guardswoman. A rather tall Octoling, with her tentacles kept loose, long, and had an interesting duel black and green pigment to it.

“Okay, not that way,” Three muttered quietly. Noticing a door within arms reach, he quietly entered the room.

He wasn't entirely sure if that Octoling had heard him, but he'd have to take his chances.

The room he was in, however, proved to be just what he was looking for. Filing cabinets lined walls that seemed to go on for an eternity. With no time quite like the present, Three opened the first drawer he could reach, and pulled a file from it.

Subject 291. Status: recovered.

Huh. Curious thing to start off with.

Extent of injuries: internal bleeding, ruptured artery, blunt force trauma, water-logged.

Oh. That was... unpleasant sounding. Three felt himself go pale as he read on.

Procedures taken for recovery: ink transfusion, seventeen weeks bed rest, constant supervision.

Three dropped the file from his hands. A slight sense of dread filled his heart as he pulled another one out.

Subject 42912. Status: hospitalised.

Extent of injuries: metal fragments embedded into body, internal and external bleeding.

Procedures taken for recovery: stitches, bandages, twenty weeks of supervised bed rest.

That feeling of dread returned, as Three began piecing together just what this place actually was.

A click was heard behind him. “Don't. Move.” A Octarian voice. So, he'd been ambushed while he was in shock.

Agent Three slowly raised his hand to the air, placing his Hero Shot on the ground. He might not be fluent in the Octarian script, but he knew enough to be able to hold at least a broken conversation.

“Why are you here?” the Octoling asked, her Octo-Shot aimed at his head. “This place has no value to your people.”

“You have stolen Zapfish,” Three responded. “And if this place has no value, then tell me what it is. I want to know what the heck's going on here.”

The Octoling's muscles tensed slightly. If Three were to guess at her age, he'd say 16 -two years older than he was-. “You have no reason to demand anything!” she spat at him. “Do you really think so much of yourself? Without the power from the Zapfish, this place is toast!”

Three cursed his careless choice of words. He recalled the Sunken Scrolls talking about how Octarian Domes were basically falling apart at the seams, but then what made this place so different? “Wait,” Three muttered, realising something. “A Dome on its last legs, but one that can't abandon, with medical records...” Nobody was sure if an Inkling could get any paler, yet Three certainly felt like he could or did. “Oh crap.” Disregarding the Octoling before him, Three fumbled around with his radio. “Agent One! Agent Two! Do you read me?!”

“Loud and clear!” the rather chipper voice of Agent One responded. “What's wrong? You sound panicked.”

“And that's on top of breaking radio silence,” Agent Two added.

“There's not much time, so I'll keep it short,” Three hurried along. “Whatever you do, DON'T take the Zapfish!”

The Octoling reacted as one might expect of an enemy telling their allies to not do a thing. “What are you talking about, Three?” Agent One asked. “Besides, we already got the Zapfish out. We're just waiting on you.”

“What?!” a feeling of dread permeated the room, as the Dome began to shake violently. The Octoling quickly ran from the room.

“Hey, uh... do you guys feel that?” Agent One spoke.

“Guess the Dome's finally giving way,” Agent Two responded calmly. “Well, it's at least one less base to worry about.”

“Damn it, Agent Two, it is something to worry about!” This was something rare for Three: anger and distress. “This isn't a military base, it's a hospital!”

A duel scream of 'what' sounded from the radio moments before he shut it off. If this place was coming down, then he'd need to act quick.

It was time for him to be the big damn hero he always dreamt of.

_Five years ago..._

“ _Come on!” an Inkling around the same age as the yet-to-be-known-as Three called. “There's nothing down there!”_

“ _But I swore I saw something!” he responded, carefully scaling down the cliff side._

Making his way down the first flight of stairs he found, Three caught a glimpse of an Octoling struggling to keep on his feet. It was, as he could plainly see, a broken leg that kept his balance off.

He was a curious looking Octoling, to say the least. Outside of the obvious 'Three had not seen many male Octolings', his tentacles were in the style of an afro, leaving Three to wonder whether or not they were tentacles to begin with.

Pushing the thought aside, Three quickly slung the Octoling's arm over his shoulder, providing support.

“Wha...” the Octoling barely squeaked out. “Why are you helping me?”

_When Three finally reached the bottom of the cliff, what he found defied all expectations._

_It was a girl, plain and simple, but not an Inkling. She looked like an Inkling, to be sure, but the maroon tentacles with suckers on the outside gave it away._

_She was injured, and covered in blood. Whether it was her own, or someone elses, he couldn't say. But, the fear in her eyes... He knew he had to help._

“Do I really need a reason to help?” Three responded, keeping as quick a pace as he could. As he came down the next flight of stairs, his eyes caught sight of that Octoling from before, who held him at gun point. Seems she had the same idea as he did. They shared a glance at each other, and after the briefest moment, nodded.

_Three finished wrapping the bandages around the girls leg. “There, you should be good to go.”_

_The girl looked at him in confusion. She spoke something, but it was in a language he did not understand. “It's fine, really,” he assured her, though he doubted she understood him._

As Three finally got himself and his Octoling patient out of the building, he noticed the gathering crowd by one of the far exits. Passing the Octoling on his shoulder over to one of the hospital staff (they had those bluish gowns on, which was a universal sign for it), Three heard the sound of falling scaffolding, followed by a shriek of distress. Turning around, he saw that Octoling girl from before, trapped under metal beams.

Three's radio buzzed to life. “Agent Three, you don't have time for this!” Agent One spoke loudly. “That place is going to come down any minute now. Get out of there!”

“I can't!” Three shouted back. “There's still someone trapped! I can't just leave them!”

“ _You're wondering why I'm helping you, right?” Three asked the girl. “Well, you're injured...”_

“It's not worth it,” Agent Two said calmly. “One Octarian life is not worth the many Inklings that will die if they get away with their plans.”

“That doesn't matter!” Three retorted, shifting into squid form to aim his Superjump at the steel beams. “Whenever someone's in trouble...”

“It's only natural that I'd want to save them!”

“ _It's only natural that I'd want to help you.”_

As he flew with a speed most unfathomable, Three's body both shifted in colour, and began to glow as he channelled the power of the Special he had on hand.

The Octoling girl barely had a second to process the events as a magenta Kraken slammed head first into the steel, bending it off her.

“Come on,” Three muttered, slinging the girl over his shoulders, “you're not dying here. Not today.”

* * *

 “Oh yeah, I remember that,” Callie spoke, as Three drew his recollection to an end. “That was a pretty harrowing thing, yeah? Wasn't expecting a hospital of all things.”

“I mean, it had a sign on the front and everything,” Marina said. “How you managed to miss that is actually a mystery to me.”

“Well, we didn't exactly take the front door,” Three defended, “and even then, we weren't at the stage were we could read Octarian, so it probably would have gone straight over our heads.” There was a brief pause on Three's end. “You know, I wonder what happened to that guard.”

“Probably somewhere in Inkopolis,” Callie suggested. “She was probably there for the final battle, and we all know how much of an impression that left.”

“I might even have the answer to that,” Marina added.

“Really?” Three exclaimed. “I've only had a hunch to go on for the past year. So any hint would be really appreciated.”

Marina gave a small laugh. It was the sort of laugh that could make an unassuming person fall head over heels for someone. “It's quite simple, really,” she said. “That guard was me.”

Callie let out a rather loud sound of exclamation. Three always found amusement in loud sounds of exclamation. “You know, that was my hunch,” he said with a chuckle. “Wasn't sure how to bring it up, though. Can't just go up to an idol as say 'hey, weren't you at that hospital my friends and I had a part in destroying?' That'd be awkward as heck.”

* * *

 Contrary to what they might have expected, Agent Four had kept her radio on, and was listening in as the three shared a mutual laugh. She covered the mouthpiece, solely to remove any chance of them hearing her sigh.

It was moments like this that made her wonder if she had the problem, rather than the Octolings. She understood the plight of the Octarian society well enough, but always considered it the hubris of their own actions.

However, experience is the greatest teacher of all, and in Four's case, she knows roughly four Octarians, and three of them are very good people.

The her of two years ago, when she first started participating in Turf Wars, would have looked at her in confusion for questioning what they've always known. The her from earlier this year would find the her of now abhorrent, for thinking there was anything redeemable about an Octoling.

Four dreaded to think what the her of tomorrow might think.

“If you folks are quite done reminiscing,” she finally spoke into the transceiver, “we should really be getting a move on.”

“Sorry!” Three shouted, his voice echoing through both the radio and the hall. “I'll be with you in a sec!”

As the radio switched off, Four let out a small giggle. Leave it to the theoretical ball of sun to help throw away ones doubts.

Her ears perked up, not at the sound of Three's footsteps, but at the faint beat of music coming from directly ahead.

“Sorry!” Three shouted, coming to a halt. “Got a bit caught up reminiscing.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Four said. There was a brief pause, before she continued. “Say. Earlier today, you were chatting with Octavio about something, right? What was it?”

“Curious?” Three asked, a pleasant smile etching itself on his face. “Well, he wanted me to keep an eye -or an ear- out for someone called Dedf1sh. He didn't say why, but it sounded personal.”

“Guessing this Dedf1sh person's a DJ of some sort, then?” Three nodded in response. “Then we should follow that beat I can hear.”

Three focused on the sound. “Yeah, I can hear something,” he muttered. “Good pick up, Four!”

Four suppressed a small chuckle. “Just don't get ahead of yourself,” she stated. “Odds are they're not going to be all together.”

* * *

 While a good idea on paper, Agent Four did not properly account for the fact that sound carried very, _very_ well in these halls. For ten full minutes, there was just... nothing. Walls filled with old posters and faded graffiti, and doors almost as old as time itself.

Before long, though, they finally arrived at a windowed sound-booth. Within this booth, as they had expected, was a sanitised Octoling dressed in a black shirt that hung loosely from her left shoulder, a grey and white hat that sat underneath, while her eyes were covered by the red shades that Octolings had become rather fond of in the past year. The colour of her tentacles were an unnatural deep purple that bled into the more common magenta, and her skin... to describe it as 'sickly green' would not do it enough justice.

“Think that's them?” Four asked, readying her Slosher in preparation for something to go wrong. How a weapon that is literally just a bucket could ever be in a 'safety mode' was a question that might forever go unanswered.

“Probably,” Three answered. “Hold position, I'll check it out.”

Three gingerly approached the sound-booth, making sure to keep his Hero Shot holstered. He tapped three times on the glass, because of course he would. “Excuse me?” Four resisted the urge to dope-slap him. She resisted it with the force of the collective gravitational pull of a thousand suns. “Are you one miss Dedf1sh?”

The Octoling slowly looked Three's way, and they could only guess that she was looking at him through blank eyes. “Um, I'm here by request of your king?” Three tried to suggest, in hopes for some reaction. “He... wants to know if you're alright? Wants us to make sure you're safe?”

While the Octoling (who they could safely conclude was, in fact, Dedf1sh) regarded him without a word, Four continued to fight the urge to smack him one. Despite the fact that he was clearly making progress, and that Dedf1sh was clearly understanding his words, this was, without question, one of the dumbest things she'd ever seen anyone do.

At this point, she was actually wondering what Agent Eight was up to. A part of her wondered if Eight's situation was any weirder.

* * *

 Contrary to the popular belief that, upon thinking a thought along the lines of 'surely person X's situation (with X being the subject of the thought) couldn't be any weirder than what I am going through right now', Eighter's situation was actually perfectly normal.

“How about the Duelies, then?”

Eighter pondered Pearl's suggestion, looking at the pair of Emperry Duelies she currently held. A pair of black and gold pistols that contained the subweapon Curling Bomb, and the Special Ink Jet.

“A little too light for my tastes,” she concluded, adjusting her hat. “Plus, Deej already has that weapon covered on our team.”

“Dude, stop worrying about team comp,” Deej stated. “Some of the greatest teams actually have people doubling up on weapons. Hell, ain't ya heard of Team Emperor? Those folks have two Duelies users.”

“Don't think that'll convince her,” Pearl stated, as the Duelies were returned to the shelf. “Guess that rules out Shooters and Sloshers as well. How about a Brush, then?” The small Inkling handed her an Octobrush.

Eighter gave it a few practice swings, and hummed in faint satisfaction. “Not bad,” she muttered, “but not quite right. It feels like it'd fly right out of my hand if I'm not careful.”

Deej had a look of mild annoyance on his face. “Okay, you know what?” He stormed over to one of the walls, grabbed the first weapon he could reach, and lobbed it at Eighter. “You want something with weight? Try a Roller.”

Eighter easily caught it, and immediately noticed a substantial difference in weight, as well as the numerous complicated components that made it so different from other Rollers. This, she concluded, must have been a Flingza Roller. Truthfully, Eighter hadn't seen much of this particular line of Rollers, not even in the Deepsea Metro. She gave it a slight twirl. Its weight sat somewhere between the average Splat Roller and the Carbon Roller. “Not too bad,” she muttered. “I'll definitely need to try it out on the field.”

“Glad to hear something's caught your attention,” the voice of the shopkeeper, Sheldon, spoke. Sheldon was a short individual -considering he was a horseshoe crab, that was to be expected-, yet he was the main manufacturer of all the weapons in the shop. “You've probably noticed that the Flingza's main operations are similar to the Carbon and Splat Rollers, but the vertical swing of it is more akin to the Dynamo line.”

Eighter parsed the information, as the door jingled open. A Roller with an average speed faster than a Splat, with a heavy attack that came close to the Dynamo? It sounded almost too good to be true, but here it was in her hand. “You know, I like this one,” she said plainly.

“Finally,” Deej all but shouted. “You know, you're a very hard person to buy for.”

“And I question your tastes,” Pearl followed up at both of them. “I mean, a Roller? Really? Those things are way too slow.”

“That just means you lack the patience to use one,” the voice of the newcomer spoke. The speaker in question was a male Inkling with noticeably darker skin than the three present (Deej had a slight tan to his complexion, while Pearl was rather fair skinned and Eighter was as pale as a ghost), with yellow-green eyes, and his tentacles kept in a rather standard top-knot. His attire was one that could be described as 'borderline edgy', consisting of a black leather jacket -Inky Black Rider-, a pair of black lace up boots -Octoling Boots, man that brought Eighter back to the military days she couldn't truly remember-, and, among other things, a pair of broken Pilot Goggles around his neck. It was rather rare for anyone to wear gear that was so badly damaged that it served no tactical advantage whatsoever. Eighter concluded, then, that the actual, ability using gear, he had would be the Fake Contacts.

Come to think of it, this guy looked somewhat familiar. Not in the 'Didn't I go to school with you?' kind of way, but more of a 'Aren't you someone from a poster about a thing?'. Considering she had only been a surface dweller for a few months, she could be excused for not being able to pin the answer down right away.

Thankfully, Deej was up on his knowing-people skills, and looked quite surprised at the Inkling. “Holy crap,” he said, “you're Rider, aren't you?”

“That is me, yes,” the Inkling replied in a tone that seemed rather exasperated. “Honestly. Can't go ten feet without someone reminding me of my name.”

“Fame does that to ya,” Pearl stated. “So, what brings the great Dynamo user from the Plaza all the way out here? Can't imaging ya don't already own every weapon on the market.”

“What, a guy can't window shop?” Rider retorted. “But in all honesty, I'm just here to check on my order.”

“And just in time, might I add,” Sheldon stated, moving behind the counter. “It actually came in the other day. Don't know why you'd want a Shooter model that's no longer up to regulation, but we had hundreds of them lying around.”

The weapon that was produced was a Splattershot, but it looked quite different from the ones Eighter had seen. Rather than the usual combo of purple, pink, green, and white, with the main body of the blaster being the ink canister, this one was a mix of dark green, lime green, orange, white, and the ink canister was top mounted, feeding into the body through a small pipe on the back. She did note, however, that the canister part was branded with the Tentatek logo.

Rider took hold of the Splattershot, and looked... rather forlorn at it. “How much do I owe you for it?” he asked, looking back at the shopkeeper.

“It may have been a special order,” Sheldon spoke, “but considering it wasn't going to get sold anyway, I'd say... 1000, flat?”

“1000?” Rider grinned somewhat. “That's practically a steal.” The set amount of money was paid, and the shooter was his.

“You collecting vintage weaponry now?” Deej asked.

“Nah, this is more... for memories sake.” There was a certain look in Rider's eyes, both Pearl and Eighter noticed. A certain way he was looking at the weapon that seemed... sad. With a quick shake of his head, the mood quickly dissipated.

Eighter noticed the quick shift in mood, as if Rider were trying not to think about it too much. Must have been about an old friend, then. She decided, at that point, to suggest something that might help lighten the mood. “A match,” she said plainly, getting everyones attention. “Perhaps we should have a match at some point?”

Rider raised a brow, seeming to entertain the idea. “Shouldn't you consult the rest of your team about that? I mean, I ain't against the idea, but still.”

“Already checkin',” Deej stated, tapping away at his phone. A moment later, it dinged twice. “All checked out, just need a time and place.”

This time, Pearl was the one to check her phone. “Well, Marina and I are on the play-by-play at Blackbelly Skatepark from ten, and there's no scheduled match. How's that sound?”

Rider quickly followed suit, sending off a few texts of his own. Barely a second later, it dinged four times. “Looks good to us.”

“Booyah,” Pearl stated. “That'll certainly be a heck of a match.”

“Still, why do you want to go against us?” Rider asked. “You do know I'm ranked S+, right?”

“Then who better to learn the Roller from?” Eighter retorted. “Besides, rank isn't everything.”

There was something about Rider's look that struck Eighter as odd. The moment she said those words, it was like a light was switched on in his mind. Rider chuckled slightly. “Guess you have a point there,” he said. “Alright, then. Tomorrow it is. Better bring your A-game.”

* * *

 Back in Octo Valley, the away team (as they had been called) returned from the expedition into the Deepsea Metro, with their plus one in the form of a sanitised Octoling (Agent Three had managed to be very persuasive, both to the Octoling in question (not exactly difficult, with the right information), and to Four, Marina, and Callie (easier to convince the two idols, compared to Four, but since she was there to see it all...)).

After a quick bit of debriefing with the other half of the Squid Sisters/Agent Two, Marie, while trying to keep Octavio in the loop (he seemed rather perplexed by that), it had been decided that Four would look after Dedf1sh for a while, until they figured out how to unsanitise an Octoling. Three was a little weary about the suggestion, considering it was Four who put it out there, but eventually caved when he heard her mutter something about 'proving herself'.

He wasn't entirely sure 'who' she wanted to prove herself to, but evidentially, she felt strong enough about it to want to look after an Octoling.

Questions for later, then.

As the team finally disbanded for the day, Three dropped himself in the shade of the shed that had long been set up. Today hadn't been exhausting in the sense that a lot happened – It was just long.

“That tired, Three?” Marie spoke, taking a seat on the sheds floorboards.

“Well, whole lotta walking does that to a guy,” Three responded. “Honestly, the amount of stamina the others have is rather frightening. Considering I've a match tomorrow, I should really be getting home.”

“You actually pre-booked a match? That's a change,” Marie noted. “Callie tells me you usually just hop into the lobby and wait to see who you go up against.”

“Yeah, I do do that,” Three admitted.

Marie gave a light chuckle. She found Agent Three to be one of those people were it was easy to just let her tentacles down. Maybe it was the two years of fighting alongside each other. Maybe it was the fact that he was a simple guy.

Maybe it was the fact that he and Callie were _quite_ close to each other.

It was probably that last one.

“Well, I'll try not to keep you here too long,” she said, though her voice carried rather sombre tone. “However, I do have one favour to ask.”

Three rose to his feet. “Sure thing, what's up?”

Before she spoke, Marie handed him a small item wrapped rather heavily. “I don't think I have to explain what this is, do I?”

Three nodded as he took the item. “The hypno-shades.”

“You catch on quick,” Marie noted. “I've been trying to find a way to either disable or destroy them, but I've had no luck. So, I was thinking...”

“That'd I'd have a better chance at it,” Three finished.

Marie nodded. “And if not, then you'd probably be able to find a place to dump them. Somewhere Callie would never find them.”

Three gave a rather cheeky grin, spinning the item on one finger. “Quite the tall order,” he said, “but consider at least one of them done.”

Marie smiled slightly. “Knew I could count on you,” she said. “Please, try not to let Callie find them. I talked to gramps about it, and apparently the withdrawal effects of the shades are... unpleasant.”

Three cringed slightly. “Duly noted, then.” He carefully placed the offending item in his pocket. “Well, I'd best get going. Tell the captain I said hey, yeah?”

“Want me to do the whole 'hand on the shoulder' thing, or just the message?”

Three bit back a laugh. “Just the message. Although, if you want to do the joke, that's on you.”

* * *

Slipping through the grating, Three took a deep breath of the metropolitan air that Inkopolis Square was known for. There was something that was almost tranquil about it. While being a large city, Inkopolis was somehow far from being considered polluted.

Well, not like that was a bad thing, in Three's case.

Having changed into his more 'everyday' clothes during transition, he looked at the wrapped up hypno-shades in his hand. Thinking back, he'd never actually had a look at the shades.

With a curious mind, Three unwrapped the cloth that covered the shades.

And immediately felt his blood run cold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha HA! Cliffhangers.  
> Now things will (hopefully) be getting interesting.  
> I must admit, writing for Splatoon is a lot of fun. Actually, let's correct that and say: Splatoon is a lot of fun.  
> Also, yes, I am including the manga characters. Why? It's honestly easier to adapt them into this in some way rather than having to create half a million OCs for a given situation.  
> Naturally, as you might have noticed, not all the manga canon will be adapted, such as Rider being Agent 3.5, but the existence of Agent 4 probably tipped that off.  
> No matter. Onward we go.


	3. Panic on the Halfpipes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say 'fear the anger of the good man', but what is one to do with that mans sorrow?

“I have to say, Deej, when you sent that message out yesterday, I thought you were talking about some rando off the street,” Shades spoke as the team walked the path to the lobby. “Not something that would garner... a crowd.”

Indeed. There was a rather substantial amount of Inklings and Octolings gathered around whatever screens had enough room to fit them. The Inklings seemed more invested in what was going to transpire, whereas the Octolings were more curious about the crowds.

“What are ya on about?” Deej asked. “Even if we challenged some mid-tier shmuck, we'd've gotten an audience. After all, we're Team Bangaichi! A bunch of no-names!”

Shades gave the headphones wearing Octoling a slight glare. “I don't know how I feel about you taking pride in our status as 'no-names'.”

“I'm just not sure when we agreed on our team name being 'Bangaichi',” Eighter added. “I mean, what even is that? What language is that even in?”

“I think it's from an old human language,” Shades answered. “I used to study it back in school, but... human languages are just too damn weird. Not only are the a few thousand, but they all go by their own rules.”

“Sounds stupid,” Eighter muttered. While her status as the team amnesiac meant she didn't really know as much as she might have about old languages, she at least understood enough to know she generally doesn't care about them. Speaking of speaking, though... “Timey, are you alright?” she spoke up to the rather quiet leader. “You haven't said a word all morning.”

Timey, as if slapped awake by a rocket propelled truck, almost tripped over himself. “Huh? What? Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine.”

The three gave their leader a stare that basically said 'if you had to say it twice, you're really not'. Well, even if they knew that, they chose not to say anything about it. “Anyway, team name aside,” Shapes said, “you never did tell us who we're going up against.”

Deej had a particularly bright grin on his face. It was the sort of grin that basically said 'someone here might not have a good time with this news'.

Shades was never a fan of that sort of smile.

“Get this, then,” Deej began. “We're going up against none other that S+ ranked Rider.”

Shades gave a look of 'what the hell did you do to get an S+ ranked guy to fight you', while Timey had a look of 'oh holy crap'.

Something was definitely wrong if Timey, of all people, was going 'oh holy crap' at the mere mention of Rider's name.

“Are you serious?” he all but yelled. “You... but... why? Why him, of all people?”

Deej looked particularly shocked. “Okay, something's going on,” Eighter said. “Your moods been in the dumps all day, you've hardly said a word, you've shown signs that something is CLEARLY bothering you,” she listed off each point on a finger for emphasis, “and now you're freaking out about going up against Rider. Do you have bad blood with him or something? Should we call the match off?”

Timey had a rather startled look in his eyes, but after a deep breath, calmed down somewhat. “No. I... I can go on. There's no problem. I'll be fine.”

Now that was a load of bull, and they all knew it. If Timey had wanted to be even somewhat convincing, he'd have said 'I'm fine'. The phrase 'I will be fine' all but outright says that, right now, he was not fine.

Actually, scratch that. It does outright say it. It so obviously says 'I'm not alright at the moment', that it can't really be joked about.

Regardless, if he was trying to keep it to himself, all they could do is wait.

* * *

 Let us take a moment to discuss the 'Lobby System', or LS, as some squids have taken to abbreviating (it's not a very good abbreviation).

The lobby itself was built roughly forty years ago, originally as just that; a lobby. A place for teams to meet up, before making the journey to wherever their match was. After roughly ten years of that, though, people decided 'bugger that', and went about making work-arounds.

What was settled upon, unbeknownst to the general public, was the recreation and advancement of old Octarian technology.

This technology, known as 'Kettles', effectively looked the laws of reality in the face and laughed. With it, one could theoretically travel from one side of the world to the other in a matter of seconds. Of course, that level of travel is only in theory. Even thirty years on since its implementation, society has only managed to get them to go as far as one side of Inkopolis to a few kilometres off out of the other side. Since most matches, be they Turf Wars, Rainmaker, Clam Blitz, Tower Control, or Splat Zone, took place within Inkopolis' limits, there wasn't much need to develop the technology any further.

Folks in the Squidbeak Splatoon are certainly glad that Octo Valley is spitting distance away, huh?

* * *

 “Y'all know what time it is!” Pearl's voice shouted over the speaker. Well, it was closer to her normal 'speaking over a crowd' voice, but considering it was Pearl, it came out as quite a few octaves louder.

“This is Off the Hook, coming to you live from Blackbelly Skatepark,” Marina followed up. “We're here today to bring you the play-by-play of the ten o'clock Turf War.”

“And do we have a game for you,” Pearl continued, her volume noticeably down a bit. “Instead of just two randos going at it, we've got an actual, honest to Zapfish, challenger vs challengee duel going on here! Now, before the ink starts flying, let's introduce our turf warriors.”

The screen flicked over to the team represented by a light pink colour. “For our challengers,” Marina started, “we have the curious individuals that make up Team Bangaichi.” (Shades: Curious? Eighter: They actually used that name?) “Their leader is an oddball with a heart of gold, and an aim as solid as Sardinium. Give it up for the smiling styler, Timey!” (Timey: Smiling what? And what's does an 'aim as solid as Sardinium' even mean? Shades: Probably just that you have a steady hand.)

“Next, we have his right hand man, the stylin' Deej,” Pearl continued. (Deej: Heck yeah, I'm stylin'.) “He may be the quickest shot on the team, but the only thing worse than this aspiring rapster's auto-bomb throwing arm is his ability to rhyme.” (Eighter: She's got you there. Deej: Harsh. True, but harsh. Timey: It's alright, you're doing your best.)

“Finally, we have the dynamic lady duo that is Eighter and Shades!” Marina added. (Eighter: Dynamic? Shades: Duo?) “These girls are shrouded in many mysteries, yet there's no mistake that they make up the backbone of this team.” (Deej: Ouch. Shades: Kind of them, but untrue.)

There was quite the cheer from the crowd, showing a surprising amount of support for the relatively small-time team. “Man, do you hear them?” Deej shouted, holding his hands (which still held his Tetra Duelies) to his ears. “We are the hype!”

“Correction: We are hyped,” Eighter stated bluntly, shouldering her new Roller. “Just because you're excited, doesn't mean you can neglect proper grammar.”

Deej gave a pout. “Don't be a grammar cultist, Eighter.”

“Says the guy who can't rhyme, or even save a single dime,” Shades shot back, adjusting her aviators.

Deej sputtered for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “Can't even be mad at that one.”

“And in this corner,” Pearl continued, as the cheering finally died down, “we have the veteran turf fighters of Team Yellow-Green, hailing all the way from the good ol' Plaza!”

The screen flicked over to Team Yellow-Green. “For a leader, they have none other than the famed and indomitable Rider, master of the Dynamo Roller,” Marina explained.

“And it seems he's brought quite the team with him, too,” Pearl added. “Starting off, we have Stealth Goggles,” the camera zoomed on a male Inkling wearing a combination of Camo Zip Hoodie, Pro Trail Boots, and the Stealth Goggles he shared his name with, all the while carrying a Jet Squelcher. “He's a massive fan of airsoft sports, from what I've heard. He's also the guy who made a plan so good, it almost beat Team Emperor.” (Deej: Oh damn. Shades: Sounds like a good challenge.)

“Next, we have the Heavy Splatling main Bamboo Hat,” Marina said. (Eighter: Cod damnit, she's got my shtick. Timey: Wait, when did you trademark the Bamboo-Hat-Splatling combo?) “She's the quiet sort, but we do know she has a fondness for wood carving.” (Deej: Damn, she's got more eastern vibes than you do, Eighter. Eighter: I'LL SPLAT HER! Shades: Holy squid, I've never seen her like that. Timey: ha ha ha.)

“And lastly, we have...” there was a brief pause in Marina's speech, as she checked the roster a second time. “Oh my. That's certainly a twist.”

“What's up, Reena?” Pearl leaned over, curious.

“Seems Team Yellow-Green has expanded their roster a little since they last participated,” Marina continued. “Rather than their usual teammate, School Uniform, they've instead brought in none other than Headphones from old Team Blue!” (Eighter: Team Blue? Shades: A Charger, huh? That's a twist. Timey: Oh no.)

“Phew, looks like it'll be a heck of a match,” Deej stated plainly.

“Okay, someone's going to have to explain this to me,” Eighter spoke up. “Who is this Team Blue?”

“How to explain,” Shades muttered. “You know that movie series staring Sharkvester Stallone, about that old human sport known as 'boxing'?”

“You mean 'Reefy'?” Eighter asked for confirmation, to which Shades nodded. “Yeah. Pearl and Marina showed it to me during my first week here.”

“Well, Team Blue was basically the Reefy Balboa of our time. They've been punching above their own rank for quite a while, managing to defeat Rider, the entire S4, and even Team Emperor.”

Eighter gave Shades a rather flat look. “For the sake of time, I'll just pretend I know what you're talking about.”

“Thanks for that,” Shades snarked lightly. “Anyway, no-one's entirely sure what happened, but around a year ago, their star player just... dropped off the map. People think it's tied to an accident that happened at Grizzco around the same time, but information is sparse at best.”

“Sounds rough,” Deej added. During the whole exchange, Timey's expression went from 'okay, I might be able to do this', to 'OH DEAR ZAPFISH, everything is going to hell in a hand-basket'. “Yo, Timey,” Deej shouted, “you doin' alright there, dude?”

Snapping back to the here and now, Timey caste a shakey glance at his teammate -his friends-, and hesitated to answer.

“Now that we've got introductions out of the way,” Marina spoke once more, “let's get on to the battle! Players, please take your positions!”

“Guess it's too late to pull out now,” Deej muttered. “What's our plan, Shades?”

“Nothing much to it,” Shades responded. “There's only two roads forward. We split into pairs, cover as much turf as we can in one sweep, meet up at the spire. Afterwards, someone goes back to fine-tune our spawn, while the rest hold the line.”

The two Octoling's nodded, whereas Timey tightened the grip he had on his Squeezer. A cold tremble ran through his body. It already wasn't a good morning for him, and now this?

“You'll be alright,” Eighter said softly. Timey took a quick look at her, to notice a gentle smile. “No matter what happens, no matter what happened with Team Yellow-Green in the past, we're here with you.”

“She's right, dude,” Deej followed up. Ten seconds to match start. “If they've done something to ya before, we'll just pay 'em back tenfold. And if they _do_ something to you, here and now...”

“Then there will be hell to pay,” Shades finished.

Timey went wide-eyed for a moment. It was in that very moment, he realised, that the trembles weakened, just a bit.

The siren blared, and the music signified the start of the match.

Almost immediately, Deej broke off to take the narrow path to the right, while Eighter took point on the main path, inking a wide trail as Shades blobbed a few shots off to the side with the Bloblobber.

Steeling his nerves, Timey began to follow suit.

* * *

 From the relatively safe recesses of the Cuttlefish Shack (unofficial name, but their an unofficial group, so there) in Octo Valley, the unusual trio sat and watched the match start. This group wasn't unusual because of the presence of both Callie and Marie, as this was their most usual hang-out place. This place wasn't unusual for DJ Octavio, as he was literally imprisoned here. What was unusual, though, was for the three of them to be sitting before the TV together.

Even more unusual, though, was the shared feeling of worry between them.

“We sure he should be doing this?” Octavio spoke up. Their enemy though he may be, the Octarian king had a certain degree of respect and, dare he say, fondness for the boy in green.

“He's nervous,” Marie said, “but he's not alone. It's been a year since that day. All we can do is hope he's got this.”

Callie didn't respond, yet her eyes were practically glued to the screen. “It's alright, Tee,” she muttered, “you've got this.

* * *

 Reconvening at the top of the tower, Team Bangaichi had managed to gain the early lead against Team Yellow-Green.

“You know, I expected them to be a bit faster than this,” Deej stated.

“Don't get too excited,” Eighter replied, giving the Roller a mighty flick. “We're barely a minute in, and we made quick for this spot.”

Deej tried to respond, yet noticed the familiar line that was a Chargers line of sight, aimed at the back of Timey's head. “Timey, get down!” he shouted, quickly shoving their leader aside. Unfortunately, that meant taking the shot himself.

“Crap. Get to cover!” Shades shouted, as the remaining three dropped from the tower. Down a man, and with their backs to the wall, just like field ops.

“Okay, that's a turn,” Eighter muttered. “Now what?”

Shades turned out the world, and while to everyone else this pause was only a second, to her it was much longer. She was the strategist for this team, after all.

_'Okay, let's assess this,'_ she thought. _'We're dealing with a Jet Squelcher, a Splat Charger, a Heavy Splatling, and a Gold Dynamo. Two heavy weapons, and two mid-weights. This part of the stage is designed that they've three ways to ambush us: left, right, and above.'_ A mental image of the map appeared in her mind. _'The Dynamo would naturally go with the above route, to get into melee range quicker. Our ride side has this raised surface, blocking the direct shots of the Charger and Squelcher, but making it a prime vantage point for the Splatling. Which leaves the other two to tackle us from our left. Therefore...'_ “Eighter, Timey, I have a plan.”

“That was quick,” Timey said, nerves still rather shaken.

“The Charger and Squelcher will most likely be coming from our left,” she continued, “while the Splatling will take our right, and the Dynamo from above. Once we move, Timey, you drop a Splat Bomb to catch the Dynamo, then join me to take care of the Charger-Squelcher duo. Eighter, I'll leave the Splatling to you.”

“Sounds fun,” Eighter replied.

“Ready? On three.” Shades held out her hand, with three fingers extended. “One. Two...” There was slight movement in their peripheral vision. “Three!”

The bomb was dropped, and the trio set about their targets.

As Rider came over the crest of the tower, he primed his Roller to strike. He was not, however, expecting to find nothing but a Splat Bomb ready to go off, and his targets already scattered.

Before he was splatted, Rider had a small smirk on his face. These kids were good.

On Eighter's side, despite being slightly weighed down by her Roller, found it relatively easy to dodge between Splatling shots. Perhaps it was a factor of having used one herself for so long.

Regardless, when she was barely a foot away, she raised the Flingza high, and... “I like your hat.”

Bamboo Hat paused briefly, her eyes filled with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Um... than...”

“BUT THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!” And thus the Roller was swung.

At that time, Timey and Shades were effectively playing footies with their opponents. The major downside of using a Charger and the Jet Squelcher was the fact that they were too accurate. Minimum spray meant more room for dodging.

Shades ducked around Headphones, tossing out two blobs from her Slosher. Timey ducked and weaved his way closer to Stealth Goggles, letting off quick shots where he could.

One shot to splat, and...

Then realisation dawn on Stealth Goggles' face, and dread on Timey's.

“Wait,” Stealth Goggles began, “aren't you...” the final shot was fired before he could finish his sentence.

“Looks like we made it,” Shades said, as she began covering more turf. “Timey, are you..?” The moment her eyes locked with his, she knew things were about to take a turn. He was staring in her direction, perhaps, but his eyes did not see her. He looked as if he were on the edge of breaking down in fear. “Timey! Pull yourself together!” she shouted, which at least snapped him back to the present. “Seriously, what is wrong? You've been completely out of it all day.”

Timey stuttered over his words. While the shout-out kept him somewhat grounded, it was painfully obvious that he had gone beyond 'bothered' and into 'distressed'.

A light tap on the shoulder alerted him to Eighter's presence behind him. “It'll be alright,” she said simply. “Whatever it is, we can work through it. That's what friends do, right?”

A bit of colour returned to Timey's features, while Shades looked the slightest bit peeved. “Way to steal my thunder, Eights,” she muttered. “Had a whole speech planned and everything, and you just go and swoop it up.”

Eighter looked slightly shocked, as if she had just been hit by a foam dart. “Oh, um... Sorry. Did you want to do over?”

Shades gave a small sigh. “No, the moment's already passed. 'Sides, you do a pretty damn good job at it anyway.”

Timey let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

* * *

 “Now that was a clash!” Pearl shouted over the speaker. “At this point, it could still be anyone's game!” Pressing a button, the mic was cut off, and the smirk on her face quickly dropped like a hammer. “Reena, you saw it too, right? How distressed Timey is?”

“It's kind of hard not to,” Marina replied. “The only time I've seen him like this was a year ago, but that was around the time I first met him in Inkopolis.”

“Any idea what the problem is?”

Marina shook her head. “I wish I did, but the only ones who might know are the Squid Sisters and Cap'n Cuttlefish.”

“Damn it,” Pearl cursed slightly, pulling her phone out.

**MC Princess:** u girls watching this match?

**Agent 2:** We are. Can't say I'm enjoying how it's going, though.

**MC Princess:** should i ask how callie's doing?

**Agent 2:** Considering we're still trying to lay low, it's taking considerable effort to keep her from Super Jumping to Agent 3 right now.

**MC Princess:** damn

**MC Princess:** should i ask about it, or is it something he should tell us?

**Agent 2:** Best to leave it to him. While I highly doubt he'd be angry or disappointed with us for telling, I'd rather not take the chance.

Pearl sighed, putting her phone away. “Let's just hope things don't get worse.”

* * *

 Rider was naturally the first to respawn -an odd concept, all things considered, but since it had been around as long as Turf Wars had been a sport, no one really questioned the fact that it was somewhat akin to _freaking dying and coming back to life_ \- and he honestly felt rather hyped at this point.

It wasn't often that someone could so easily counter a three pronged attack when down a man.

The rest of Team Yellow-Green slowly respawned in, and when Stealth Goggles finally did, he noticed something was amiss.

“Hey, Stealth, you alright there?” he called out. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I...” Stealth Goggles swallowed nervously. “I feel like I did, too. That guy, in the green track suit.”

“Timey, yeah?” Bamboo Hat confirmed. “If I recall correctly, he's their leader. But, there was something familiar about him.”

“Yeah, I noticed it, too,” Headphones finally spoke. “It was... almost nostalgic. I'm not sure how else to explain it.”

“I think...” Stealth Goggles hesitated to give the conclusion he had reached, but steeled himself to say it. “I think it was Goggles.”

Shock waved over the other three. “I'd ask if you were kidding,” Rider began, “but I know you, and you wouldn't do something like that.” Rider's hand moved over the Pilot Goggles around his neck. “Do you think he...”

“I don't think so,” Stealth Goggles replied. “I think he recognised us, but only as 'those people', and not his old friends.”

“He... still doesn't remember,” Headphones muttered, looking particularly saddened.

“One year,” Rider said. “It's been one year since he vanished. If he still doesn't remember us... if he still believes he's that guy, then...” He locked eyes with Stealth Goggles. “We need to create an opening, try to talk to him. Can you work out a plan for that?”

“Way ahead of you, Rider,” he nodded. “Although, it's more that we'll be breaking out an old plan. Tell me, how are we on our Specials?”

* * *

 

In most cases of Turf War, being close to the enemy spawn was generally considered a bad idea, mostly because of the fact that the enemy would quickly be upon you in a moments notice.

Regardless, for the three member of Bangaichi, they had no other turf to claim at the moment, and Deej was still cleaning up their spawn. So, here they were.

As expected, Team Yellow-Green stood before them, prepared to strike, and with their Specials all primed and ready.

What scared Timey the most however, was the look Rider and Headphones were giving him.

And so the tremble began again.

Noticing this, Eighter and Shades instinctively stood in front of their leader protectively. This may have only hinted at the problem for them, but it was enough.

Rider regarded the two, before raising a single hand.

Then, for Team Bangaichi, it all went south.

Headphones and Bamboo Hat, positioned to Rider's left and right, immediately activated their Specials: the Sting Ray. The powerful beams of ink shot forth, and while they didn't hit, they served the alternate purpose of halting sideways movement.

“Okay, not looking good,” Eighter muttered, as she and Shades stood back to back.

“You're going to jinx it,” Shades replied rather bitterly. From the corner of her eye, she saw two things: the first was the sub-weapon Toxic Mist, being thrown from behind Rider. The second, though, was Stealth Goggles prepping his own Special, the Tenta Missiles.

She recognised this strategy. Heck, she had been in the audience when it was first used. Only difference between then and now was the fact that _they weren't Team Emperor_. Instinct took over. Shades knew that there was no way she or Eighter would be able to get clear in time. So, with what strength and time she could gather, she shoved Timey out of the blast zone.

The Mist struck, and the missiles were fired.

“Rather bold strategy of you, Shades,” Eighter muttered.

“Don't patronise me,” Shades responded, a slight tone of bitterness masked by faux amusement. “This is because you had to say one of the many cursed lines.”

“Yeah, I'll own that one.” A more serious look took over Eighter's visage. “You sure there's not a chance for one of us to get out of this? It'd take us a bit too long to get back to Timey.”

“There is one idea,” Shades admitted, “but it'll need one of us to try and shoot down as many missiles as we can, and even then, only the one retreating would survive.”

Eighter grinned, as the Tenta Missiles drew closer. “Then, just leave that to me.”

* * *

 The moment Timey was able to push himself upright, the missiles had already struck. He knew the reason why she did it, sure, but seeing your friends effectively sacrifice themselves to save you... it still hurt, no matter how temporary.

What made it worse, though, was the simple fact that now he was alone in Team Yellow-Green's territory.

_'It's alright, Timey. Just take a deep breath,'_ he told himself. _'Right now, it's just a matter of routine. Just get out of this area, fall back to Deej, and you'll be fine.'_

Naturally, at this point, he had assumed squid form, and began swimming his way to the side path. If he was fast enough, then he might just be able to make a break for it before they noticed him, and -where did Rider go?

A heavy line of ink suddenly shot across his vision, cutting off his escape route. Oh, there did Rider go.

“Trying to run again?” he asked plainly. “How long do you plan to keep this up?”

Timey weighed his options: He could make a break to the main path, and -it was already cut off by the rest of Rider's team. He could try shooting his way through Rider. No, that would work either. Rider's quick, even with the Dynamo, and the Squeezer did it's best at a greater range.

He hated having to use plan C: talk his way out, on Rider.

“How long?” Timey parroted, not realising how shakey his voice was. “I'll keep going until you finally give up on this! I keep telling you, I'm not...”

“I don't believe that!” Rider shouted. “One year ago, you came back to us without your memories, and then you just left! Have you even been trying to remember who you are!”

“I know who I am!” Timey shouted back.

“Do you really? If you really knew who you were, then why did you run, Goggles?!”

There it was. That name. That blasted name that had come to haunt him. The trembling returned once more, with greater force. “I... I told you... I'm...”

“Stop fooling yourself!” Rider grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. The Squeezer fell to the ground with a resounding clack. “Do you know how much it hurt your team to not only have you not remember them, but to then just up and vanish?”

“I keep telling you, you've got the wrong person!”

“How long?” the voice of Headphones added. “How long does this have to go on? Goggles, we just... we just want you back, even if you don't remember us.”

There it was. The part he dreaded most out of this situation. His desire to help someone so clearly in need, overlapped by the fact that what was being asked of him was impossible.

Every negative emotion Timey had ever felt in his life, be it dread, guilt, sorrow, fear, ect, came rushing in.

“I think I've heard enough of this shit.” In that moment, a rather familiar looking poll was dropped between him and Rider. A not often used Splash Wall was erected between them. Taking this opportunity, Timey immediately Super Jumped away.

“Wait!” Rider shouted, though just a little too late for him to do anything substantial about it. Gritting his teeth, the Dynamo user glared in the direction the Wall came from.

Standing upon one of the ledges was Shades, splotted with enemy ink, yet still in all her glory. “How the hell did you even survive that?”

“Amazing what teamwork can do,” Shades replied, the tone of her voice indicating a massive amount of anger. “Can't say I'm a fan of strategies that involve someone taking a blow like that, but neither of us like seeing our leader looking that bad.”

“This doesn't concern you,” Rider spat. “We're trying to get our friend back.”

“By breaking someone emotionally? You're quite the moron, aren't you?” The grip Shades had on her Bloblobber tightened immensely. “I won't let you anywhere near him. That's a promise.”

* * *

 To say that Deej wasn't too happy about the current situation was an understatement. On one hand, he was simply going through the routine of any other Turf War, making sure things were the same as they'd ever been.

On the other hand, though, Timey was very depressed about things right now. He was a second away from just ditching the backline duty to make sure he was alright.

This feeling only grew stronger when he noticed Eighter respawn.

“Damn, they got you?” Deej muttered. He tried -lord knows he tried- to give the line a cheerful inflection.

“I at least managed to keep Shades from being splatted,” Eighter responded cooly. “Regardless, we need to hurry, or...” she paused when she noticed the Super Jump symbol appear around her. At this point, it could only mean one thing.

It was not a good thing.

Seconds later, the squid form that was Timey crashed directly into Eighter's chest -which she was, thankfully, prepared for. What she was not prepared for, however, was the fact that he didn't shift back. Or the quivering.

Especially not the quivering.

“Timey?” Eighter muttered, as the Inkling wrapped his arm (tentacles?) around her. “Timey, it's alright. It's me.”

If he heard her, Timey didn't respond. He was in the middle of muttering something rather incomprehensible to her, though she could barely make out his own name in the rambling.

“Jesus Carp,” Deej muttered, “what the heck did they do to him?”

Eighter took a deep breath. She was not exactly cut out for this sort of thing, but damn if she won't at least try to comfort him. Plan A, then: simply rub his back, and let him know it's okay.

Right. Not a massive improvement, but she did notice the mumbling slow down a little.

“Right, something's definitely gone wrong,” Pearl shouted over the speaker. “Sorry, folks, but we're gonna have ta cut this match short.”

_'Thank you, Pearl, you magnificent midget,'_ Eighter thought. Slowly, she managed to stand back up, keeping her arms around Timey.

A short moment later, and Shades finally regrouped with them. “Is he okay?”

“Nope,” Deej responded. “What happened over there? Were they trying to make him have a breakdown? Because if so, then they damn well succeeded.”

“Wish there was a clear answer,” Shades replied, wiping some ink off her cheek. “Unfortunately, the only thing I know is that they believe Timey's someone else. I don't know if something happened between the two, but it's certainly left some scars.” Glancing behind herself, she noticed Team Yellow-Green making their way towards them. “We should get out of here. If we stay any longer, we might end up hurting someone else.”

“Hold on!” Rider shouted. “We just need a...”

Nobody saw the movement. One second, Rider was running up towards Team Bangaichi, and the next, Deej was directly in front of him, one of his Dualies pointed directly at his face. “Don't,” he said plainly. “If you follow us. If you try anything to him. Then I can't be held responsible for what I'll do to you.”

While to most, this was a surprising shift in tone, Eighter looked at the scene with curiosity. She knew instantly that this wasn't Deej the street artist, the loveable scamp of the team, but Deej the Octarian soldier talking.

Thankfully, Rider knew better than to try and threaten a train soldier, even if he didn't realise it.

* * *

 Arriving back at, and subsequently leaving, the lobby was thankfully without hassle. The crowds that had gathered to watch the match had already broken off to new things. Whether it was because they got bored without the match, or in order to give space, no one could say for certain.

“Where should we go?” Eighter asked, keeping the squid that was her friend close. A curious thing about Inkling/Octoling form shifting was the fact that, despite all laws of reality saying otherwise, a persons squid/octopus form as noticeably lighter than their bipedal form.

“Timey has an apartment in Flounder Heights,” Shades responded, tapping away at her phone. “We're going to go straight there, and let things calm down. You've got Off the Hook on speed dial, right, Eighter?” Eighter nodded. “Give them a call, and let them know. I'm going to shoot certain people a message to meet us there as well.”

“Is now really the time to be cryptic?” Deej asked. “Then again, I get the feeling I'm the only one out of the loop.”

“Sorry about that,” Shades apologised. “At this point, though, if I told you right now, we'd be here a while.”

“Yeah, I think I get that,” Deej admitted. “Well, best lead the way, Shades.”

* * *

 Flounder Heights was located only three train stops away from Inkopolis Square. Two years ago, it was one of many hotspots for Turf Wars and Ranked Battles to take place. After a few dozen of the usual residents moved out, the place was benched, so to speak.

Thankfully, for the Inklings and Octolings, that meant more real estate to live in, and not much noise complaining.

Timey's apartment was the third door on floor three, much to the surprise of neither Eighter or Shades. Considering the state the apartment's main resident was in, the question stood on how they would get in.

Shades reached under the doormat, retrieving a key. “Really? He keeps the spare down there?” Deej asked.

“Don't be ridiculous, Deej,” Shades responded, moving a loose piece of wood from the lower area of the door to reveal a locked hatch. The key slid in, and the hatch opened to a small drawer with another key in it. That key, in turn was used to unlock the door. “It's double security.”

“Clever,” Eighter muttered.

To best describe the state of Timey's apartment, it would be 'unassuming'. If you were to look at this place, with its modest TV, simple couch, two bookshelves with various books, CDs, DVDs, framed pictures, and what have you, or its relatively simple, well kept kitchen, the only thing you'd think is 'someone lives here'.

What was interesting to note, however, was that some pictures that mounted the walls were signed by various musicians. Mostly the Squid Sisters, though.

“Eighter, you mind putting him down on the couch?” Shades spoke, moving towards the fridge. “I'll see what I can put together to eat. Deej, you mind getting some music going?”

“From the shelf, right? What should we get on?”

“Probably something Squid Sisters,” Eighter responded, gently placing the squid in her arms down. “I think he's particularly fond of 'Fresh Start'.”

“Fresh Start, got it.” Deej drew the CD from the shelf, and began moving to the CD player not far away. “I thought this one only came out a few months ago. How'd he get it signed already?”

“Funny story to that one,” Shades replied. “Man, he has a lot of ice cream in here. Can't half tell what side of that Splat Fest he was on.”

There was a rapid knock on the door. “That's probably Pearl and Marina,” Eighter said. “I thought I heard their helicopter on the way up.”

As Eighter went for the door, Deej took a look at Shades, who was dropping scoop upon scoop (upon scoop upon scoop upon scoop...) of the ice cream into a bowl. “Are we just going to gloss over the fact that Off the Hook just came our way by 'copter?”

“You think that's bad, wait to you learn who Timey's girlfriend is,” Shades responded, grabbing a spoon from the drawer.

“Still got hedged bets on that one,” he muttered, as Shades placed the bowl next to Timey. “By the way, aren't you gonna take those glasses off? I mean, we're indoors.”

Shades placed a hand on the glasses, and Deej noticed a slight hesitation. “Sorry, but I'd rather not,” she responded. “It's... hard to explain. Without these one, I worry that I'll... go back to who I was.”

“'Once was'? What do you mean?”

“I...” There was a clear message in that hesitation, which told him to leave it be.

Thankfully, Deej was no stranger to social cues. “Alright, I'll drop it. But,” he tapped the edge of her glasses lightly, “once we have all this sorted, you talk to someone about it, got that?”

Shades let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks. And sorry, I guess. It's just that it's easy to wear a mask, than risk saying something that'd make you and Eighter hate me.”

“The two of us specifically?” Deej muttered quietly. If anything, this at least told him that she knew about the whole Octoling migration thing. It also told him that, despite any pre-established prejudice, she was actively trying to be on their side. Nice to know, but the mood was becoming far more sombre as time went on. Quickly, Deej, change the subject! “Speaking of Eighter, she's been at that door for a while now.” Nice save.

“Yeah, wonder what's taking her?”

Hurried footsteps echoed from the door. A figure turned the corner of the door-frame, and every fibre of Deej's being made him dodge as the person moved with the speed of a bullet train to Timey, wrapping the squid in a tight, yet not suffocating, hug.

This Inkling, as it so happened, was also distinctly familiar.

“Geez, I get you're worried, Callie,” an additional voice spoke, “but you could at least slow down a little.”

At that moment, Deej realised just who these two newcomers were, and thereby, who Shades had just called. “You're... absolutely kidding me,” he said plainly, giving Shades a flat glare. “So, not only does Eighter have Off the Hook on speed dial, but you, Shades, are able to get in contact with the FREAKING SQUID SISTERS?!”

Shades gave him a look of both understanding and bewilderment. “I mean, I get your reaction, but I'd've thought you'd react more to the fact that Callie's currently glomping Timey into oblivion.”

Glancing back at the couch, Deej noticed just how... relaxed Timey had become, the moment Callie grabbed him. It answered one question for Deej, yet only served to raise several more.

What followed next, though, was Pearl and Marina entering the room, pushing a petrified Eighter forward. “You know, Reena, out of everything I expected today, shocked Eighter wasn't on the list.” Pearl spoke.

Deej found himself the first free chair that was furthest from people. “I'm just... gonna sit down an' wait for answers. My brain's not gonna work for a while.”

“He's processing shock rather well,” Marie said, taking a seat next to Callie. “Three, are you holding up alright?” she asked over her partner's shoulder.

“Better now,” Timey responded. There was a slight woop of 'progress' from someone in the room, but no one could be sure whether it was Shades or Deej. “Sorry I worried everyone. It's just... hard to keep it in at times.”

“Well, ya downed the ice cream easily enough,” Deej stated. “Still, gave us a right scare, ya did. What the heck happened?”

Timey and Callie shared a brief look. “You want to tell them, or should one of us do it?” she asked.

“I...” Timey swallowed hesitantly. “I'll do it. There's... details that I should tell from my perspective.”

“You see, it all happened a year ago, while I was working a shift at Grizzco.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, may as well call this the Timey/Agent 3 Show (Also, I wasn't trying to hide that fact). Don't worry, the others will get their turn, our favourite hero just gets first dibs.  
> Also, MOAR CLIFFHANGERS!  
> I don't know why I feel the need to point them out.  
> Onward, ho!


	4. What Is, and What Will Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bareth thy heart, and the wing of thy bonds shall lift thee to the promised respite.

(One year ago)

“ _Did you know,” Timey began, “that the odds of the average Inkling having a person out there that looks exactly like them are 1/588?”_

“ _Question,” Pearl raised her hand. “What's that got to do with anything?”_

“ _Quite a lot, actually,” Marie answered._

Timey could safely say that he was not a fan of boats. It probably had to do with the certain death that the vessel bobbed atop of that set him off so much.

Still, this was a job, and he agreed to do it. Grizzco may be a rather shady looking business, but Mr Grizz did work that was beneficial to Inkopolis as a whole, so it was only natural that Timey would step in to help out.

Plus, there was money involved. Much as Timey didn't want money to be a major factor to why he did anything, the sad truth was that Turf War and Ranked only paid out so much. (Deej: Ah, the pains of capitalism. Pearl: I feel that. Marie: Shush.)

The Squidbeak Splatoon only paid him so much, after all. Actually, scratch that. He wasn't paid at all for that. Entirely his own choice, really. (Callie: Wait, Gramps doesn't pay you? Timey: I mean, I made the final call on the matter, so... Callie: Don't matter. When he gets home, I'mma have words with him.)

The sound of a glass contained filled with... something, hitting the deck was heard. Glancing behind him, Timey noticed an Inkling chasing after a jar of pickled plums that was rolling towards him.

Strange tastes, in his opinion, but okay.

Crouching down, Timey picked up the jar. “Are these yours?” he asked the Inkling. Bit of a stupid question, really, but it was polite.

“Ah, thanks!” the Inkling replied, in a voice that sounded strangely like his own. The jar was handed over, and the moment the two locked eyes...

Well, it was like looking in a mirror. Timey tilted his head to the left, and the Inkling mirrored him in curiosity. Raise left hand, to his right. Stood on opposite foot.

It all culminated in a weird display, when the new Inkling somehow managed to bend his body backwards, and touch the top of his head to his heels.

“ _Okay, hold on,” Deej interrupted. “How the heck did this kid manage to bend over backwards like that? That doesn't seem physically possible.”_

“ _Actually, that makes a lot of sense,” Eighter said._

“ _How?”_

“ _We don't have bones, smart-ass,” Pearl answered. “The only reason we act like we do is because at least 70% of the media we consume is old movies made by humans thousands of years ago.”_

“ _I think that's just a conspiracy, Pearlie,” Marina stated._

“ _Whale-shit 'it's just a conspiracy'!” Callie shouted (Timey: Ow, my ears!) “If it was that simple, then why are we so inflexible at times?”_

“ _Because it's a more civil way of moving,” Marie responded, before giving Timey a look. “I think we enabled this mindset a bit too much, Three.”_

“ _I find it amusing, honestly,” Timey responded. “Now, as I was saying...”_

Timey let out a shrilled laugh, having not expected that level of flexibility. “You're really an odd one, aren't you?” he said, before holding out a free hand. “My name is Timey, what's yours?”

The Inkling looked at him with the curiosity of a newborn, before giving a large, infectious smile. “I'm Goggles! Nice to meet you!”

* * *

 “ _To say that Goggles was a great ally to have in that shift of Salmon Run would be an understatement,” Timey continued. “Considering it was a hazard level max shift, at that, that's praise well earned.”_

Timey cursed his poor luck of the day. It was a low tide situation, during the last wave, so the Salmonids were out in full force at the Ruins of Arc Polaris. He and Goggles were on boss and mook killind duty, while their two coworkers were hauling the golden eggs to the basket. A rather standard means of doing the job, but effective none-the-less.

It would have been a simple job, at least, if it wasn't an all random weapons run.

Granted, Goggles at least had his prefered Splattershot, so more power to him, but Timey was stuck using the Luna Blaster. Not his best weapon, by far.

Familiar green circles lit up the ground, and the two dived aside as the missiles of a Flyfish struck, followed quickly by the beam of a Stinger.

“Blast, there's no end to them,” Timey cursed quietly.

“What's that about 'fast'?” Goggles asked, hardly phased by the onslaught of Salmonids.

“I said 'blast', not 'fast',” Timey replied. _'This guy is good, no doubt about that, but his hearing... I wonder if he has problems with his ears?'_

Unfortunately, during his musing, Timey was caught unaware by the Steel Eel sneaking up behind him. How such a thing could 'sneak' was quite the mystery, but it managed to do it.

Timey was caught square in the back, though his ink tank took most of the blow. Plus side: wasn't splatted. Down side: his ink tank broke.

Well, wasn't that just fan-flipping-tastic. (Deej: Man, flashback Timey is sassy as hell.)

“Sorry, Goggles, I need to fall back,” Timey shouted.

“Got it!” came the response. At the very least, when it mattered, Goggles could pick up the slack.

Leaping onto one of the ink rails, Timey cursed his failings. He really did hate this feeling of powerlessness.

Of course, while on the job, brooding was generally considered a bad idea. Case in point: sudden Flyfish missile. A near miss though it may be, but was enough to throw him off balance, and lead him to tumble into the tainted water below.

Something with weight struck him in the side, the sound of someone being splatted was heard, and he blacked out.

* * *

(Present Day)

“Hold the heck on,” Shades spoke, when Timey's pause went on to the point that he seemed finished. “That can't be it. What sort of whale-shit cliff hanger is that?! You're making it sound like you're the one who...” She paused, as if a puzzle piece had just been placed, and the image was becoming clearer. “Wait... Rider was calling you Goggles, and you know for certain that you two look alike. Then, that would mean...”

Timey nodded sadly. “Yes. I can only guess that Goggles threw his ink tank at me, and was splatted immediately after. Either that, or...” He began to tremble once more. “The alternative is... that Rider's right, and that I really am Goggles.”

“But you're not,” Callie said strongly and suredly. “Marie, Gramps, and I, have seen your scars. We know _you_.” She held him tighter. “You _are_ Timey, no doubt about it.”

The shaking subsided. “Thanks, Cal,” Timey muttered. Were he in Inkling form, it would have been blatantly obvious how warm his smile was right now. “Roughly a day after... that incident,” he continued his story, “I woke up in the hospital, surrounded by... all of Goggles' friends. Apparently, everyone believed I was him because I had his ink tank from Grizzco. I tried to convince them they were mistaken, but...”

“It's hard to tell someone the person they love is dead,” Eighter finished. “Doubly so when they're convinced you're that person.”

Timey nodded sadly. “It was especially hard with Team Blue. They were... they were Goggles' childhood friends.” A small tear fell at that moment. “I was in that bed for three days. The staff were convinced I had either gotten amnesia, or my memories rewrote themselves to cope with the shock. On the second day, I... I was almost believing them. The only reason I wasn't in the hospital longer... was because I ran.”

_Heavy breathing, masked by the sound of rain. Contrary to popular belief, rain was only mildly annoying to Inklings, like dust is to humans in the wind._

_Timey ran. He ran, and ran, and ran. Even as the rain burned, he ran, hearing the calls for Goggles._

_He wasn't Goggles. He couldn't be._

_Could he?_

“After a while, though, I made my way to Octo Canyon, where... my doubts were first eased a bit.” Timey exhaled, signifying the end to what he wanted to say.

“That's... wow,” Marina muttered. “I had no idea. I can't imagine what that would be like.”

“I don't think I want to,” Deej stated. “Having to make a new life away from home is one thing, but to be told you're suppose to live someone elses life? Shit's stranger than fiction.”

Eighter was silent for a moment. “Having amnesia is one thing,” she said quietly, “but if I were to be told that everything I knew about myself was a lie... I don't know what I'd do.”

“I don't think you'd be blamed for shooting the messenger,” Marie said. “Lord knows I wanted to, after seeing the state Three was in. Heck, even Octavio was off-put by it.”

“Really says something, when your enemy feels sympathy,” Shades said. “But, what happens now? Team Yellow-Green will be out in force, now that they know Timey's in town.”

“I...” Timey swallowed. “I don't want to go into hiding. Not again. But I... I don't know if I can face them again.”

“Well, you're not doing it alone!” Pearl shouted, rising to her feet. “You've got an entire team of professionals with ya! If those pricks try anything, I will cut a fish!”

Marina giggled lightly. “I'm with Pearl on this,” she said, standing up. “Regardless of how we first met, you still saved my life. I have every intention of repaying that debt to you.”

“Damn straight!” Deej stated. “Heck, more than just saving my life, you damn well gave me a life! If we Octolings are known for anything, it's paying our friends back.”

Eighter chuckled lightly. “Here I thought that was just me,” she muttered. “Timey, I may not have most of my memories, but one thing I do remember is our battle two years ago. That battle... it's what pushes me to go as far as I can. You were my enemy then, and you inspired me. You're my friend now, and... I don't know a word stronger than 'inspire', come to think of it.”

“How eloquent of you,” Shades said next. “Although, I don't think I can do much better.” She adjusted her aviators slightly. “I've barely known you for half a year, yet in that time, you've managed to make me try to be a better person. I know I still have a long way to go, and I want you to be there by the end.”

Smiling slightly, Marie patted Shades on the head. “I'd say you're doing pretty well, Four,” she said fondly. “There isn't a chance in hell we'd trade you for anything, Three. After everything you've done, not just for us, but for all of Inkopolis, I think we can safely say we know you. Your only problem is the fact you don't talk to us about your issues.”

Finally, Callie stood up, turning Timey around to look him directly in the eyes. “Tee, you've been such an important part in all our lives. We know you, just as you know us. So you can trust us when we say: you are our dear friend, and no one will take that away from you.”

“Cal, I...” Timey uttered, struggling to pick his words. “I...” A slight hiccup escaped his throat. “I'm just... afraid. Afraid that, if I show this weakness, then... then you'd all think that I'm... that I'm not...”

“What sort of assholes do you take us for?” Pearl shouted.

“We'd have to be pretty scummy to look at a friend in distress and think 'he's not our Timey',” Deej added.

“Your... Timey...” he repeated the words to himself, finding a small semblance of strength in them. That strength, in turn, motivated him back into his Inkling form. His head was kept low, but one could tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he was struggling to keep the tears back. “Those three months I was hiding... I lost so, so much during that time. I... I had nowhere else to go after that incident. 'Timey' was just... another name in the obituary. My family, my friends... I couldn't tell them I was alright, because... because to the world, I wasn't even me.” He finally raised his head, meeting eyes with Callie. “I... I don't want to lose it all again!”

There it was. The line that finally allowed his tears to fall. A vocalised wish, pure, selfish, and altogether childish.

For someone who had never allowed himself to be such a kid, and was more a soldier and hero, an ace of combat, who wouldn't want to hug him, and make sure he knows he's not going anywhere?

Not Callie. Nor Marie, Pearl, Marina, or the rest of Team Bangaichi.

* * *

 The hours passed without notice, considering the mood had been lifted quite considerably after what everyone had agreed to call 'Operation Group Hug'. Shades had been the first to leave that evening, on account of having to 'make sure her new room-mate hadn't burned the building down'.

Considering she was talking about a sanitized, yet rather docile, Octoling, the odds of that actually happening were very low, but she couldn't be blamed for wanting to be sure.

Shades lived in a small apartment building an extra train station away from Flounder Heights and Inkopolis proper. Not quite as nice as Timey's, granted, but it was serviceable enough for her liking.

As she reached her door, her phone dinged. It had been going off like that for the past hour or so, mostly due to the fact that they had officially let Deej in on the New Squidbeak Splatoon's group chat.

Well, it was still nice to not have to keep secrets now.

**Chat Log:**

**Tenta-fool (Deej):** How's things going on everyone's ends?

**Agent_1:** .tser emos gnitteg s'eh tsael tA .peelsa nellaf tsuj s'eeT

**Tenta-fool:** um wat

**Agent_2:** Callie, you're holding the phone upside down again.

**Agent_1:** i totally did ;p

**MC_Princess:** but how tho

**Agent_4Shades:** She was able to do it with sound, too.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** But that's... not how sound works. That's not how phones work. Just... how?

**Agent_1:** dunno what ta tell ya

**Agent_Octopod:** This is nice. We're all getting along :).

**Tenta-fool:** glad one of us is havin a good time

**Tenta-fool:** Getting back on track though, what's our plans for the next few days?

**MC_Princess:** ya no he srs when he punctuate.

**Agent_1:** I'm planning on staying at Tee's, at least until Rider pulls his head out.

**MC_Hyperfish:** Unfortunately, Pearlie and I still have to do our shifts for Turf War commentating, so we'll be largely unavailable for most days.

**Agent_Octo:** I've got... plans, tomorrow, but otherwise I'm good for whatever.

**Agent_4Shades:** I've got to look after that new room-mate of mine, but I can be on standby if needs come.

**Agent_2:** Ditto for me.

**Tenta-fool:** And I'm free with no prior commitments.

**Agent_2:** Guess we'll be relying on you as the front liner, then. Also, Callie, mind your language, we've an amnesiac in the chat.

**Agent_Octo:** I'm not too troubled by it. Besides, I can swear if I want to.

**Agent_1:** Prove it.

**Agent_Octo:** F

**Agent_Octo:** Fu

**MC_Princess:** u can do it!

**Agent_Octo:** im nervous.

Shades giggled at the exchange as it continued. It was more for the fact that she was able to fit in with these people, more than anything.

To say that Shades' parents were completely different people would be... well, a statement of the obvious, really, as both of a persons parents would have to physically be separate entities. Personality wise, though, they were night and day. They were so different, one couldn't help but wonder how they got together in the first place.

The answer was simple, really; it was a prearranged marriage.

Shades' father came from a long line of military practitioners, with her great-grandfather having taken part in the Great Turf War. Her father was strict, absolute, indomitable, and terrifying.

That was just a polite way of saying he was an ass at the best of times. He was a xenophobic mess of a man, believing Inklings to be the superior life on the planet, and hammering into Shades' head that any and all Octarians should be killed on sight.

He also died of pneumonia, which he caught during boot camp, so any judging he wants to do about the state of Inkopolis can be done in whatever afterlife he ended up in.

Shades used to hold her father is high regard, and treated his word as law. Granted, that was because directly going against him, or even subtly going against him, was considered a very bad idea. She used to fully believe him when he said that Octarians were a bad idea, but considering her life these days...

As for her mother, she was easily among the nicest people Shades knew. She used to own the title of 'nicest', but them Timey walked in and politely tried to let her keep it, while she kindly tried to let him have the title. She also had the added bonus of still being alive at the moment.

Shades' mum was also the one who gave her the aviators she wore. To Shades, it served as a reminder of what she aspires to be: like her mother.

Her father made her into someone who hates, and her mother is working to make her someone who loves.

At least, she believed, if she had those glasses on her, she could replicate her mothers kindness.

Sighing the thoughts away, she opened the door to her apartment.

If Timey's could be described as modest on the side well off, then Shades' would be modest on the side of scrapping by. The floors hadn't been cleaned in at least a week, cobwebs had begun to form in the corners of the ceiling, and the smell was.... well, not quite unpleasant, but it was there enough to let people know this place was lived in.

Then again, no matter what setting it was, the sanitised Octoling standing in the middle of it all would always be out of place.

Shades let out a small sigh. “You do know you can sit down somewhere, right?” she said. Dedf1sh had been rather silent the past 24 hours. Granted, Shades wasn't sure whether the sanitisation process did something to her ability to speak, but it was a safe bet.

The Octoling stared at Shades, but whether or not she was regarded was lost behind those red glasses. “Look, I know you can understand me,” Shades continued. “Three was able to convince you to go with this, after all. So could you at least meet me half way?” Still no response. Just the blank stared behind outdated hypno-shades. Dejectedly, Shades let out another sigh. “Whatever. I'm calling it a day.”

* * *

 Eighter never wished to be back in the Deep Sea Metro, but she still had some unfinished business.

Walking down the all too familiar halls, todays events weighed heavily on her mind. To have learned that her friend/rival/hero had been hiding such pain... she considered her own amnesia to be a blessing at times like this. Being able to only look forward in life was rather nice, in hindsight.

What made her journey here difficult, though, was the fact that the entirety of team Yellow-Green was out in force, searching for her, Deej, Shades, or Timey. Just walking through Inkopolis Square was a trial in paranoia.

After a few minutes, she finally arrived at the central terminal. It was exactly as she'd left it: a mess. Particularly the broken telephone.

She raised a choice finger at the wreckage out of sheer spite. Up yours, Tartar.

“Ah, welcome back, No. 10008,” the familiar voice of one C.Q. Cumber spoke. “I was under the impression that you already finished all the tasks.”

“I did,” Eighter responded, “but there's something else for me to wrap up, first.”

“That locker again?” the train conductor asked, turning his head to the only open locker on the other side of the station. Fittingly enough, the one numbered 8. “Outside of taking time to chat with the other metro patrons, you spend a lot of time just staring into that locker. You don't even take the hairpiece that's in there.”

“Yeah,” she replied, “but that's because... I'm not ready for it. But this time, maybe.”

“Time, huh?” C.Q. Cumber mused. “You're reliving a memory, aren't you?”

“An important one,” Eighter said, as she came to a stop in front of the locker.

“A great enemy you seek to overcome?”

Eighter gave a small smile, as her hand touched the hairpiece. “No,” she said. “A mighty friend.”

* * *

 The moment she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the Deep Sea Metro, nor was she dressed in her usual attire.

She found herself upon a rather small platform; square shaped, and roughly ten metres across each side.

Her attire, in turn, had switched from her ronin-like appearance to her old Octarian military uniform.

A figure loomed overhead, standing upon a floating platform, as the heavenly tune from that day played once more.

Eighter gave a sly grin, and Agent Three stared back passively.

“Round 71, my friend,” she said, as Agent Three leapt from the platform.

The battle began with the all too familiar Splash Down.

Eighter first found out about this shortly after the destruction of the NILS statue. A strange locker containing a strange item that caused her to remember a fateful battle from two years ago.

At first, this made her weary of her fellow agent. Then, after the first dozen matches, she started noticing some changes in the battle.

She quickly learned it was due to the fact that she was coming to know him. She started noticing the small things that the Three of two years ago would do. The slight hesitation on the trigger, the faint twitch of his brow when he'd activate a Super, she began to learn them all.

Then, when that wasn't enough, she began to learn his strategies; what made him tick.

Before long, though, she found out why he bore such a grimace that day. It wasn't that he was disgusted with fighting an Octoling; it was that he was disgusted with fighting as a concept.

Hence why, after the 30th attempt, she tried talking to the Three of the past. Every time she did, there was the slightest hesitation, yet it never amounted to much more than about two or three missed shots.

Out of several hundred, that is.

The working theory she was that the knowledge she had from the present about him actually influenced how Three of the past reacted to certain situations.

This time, though, she had a plan.

Phase one: The Inkjet.

Eighter had honestly reached a point where she could do this part blindfolded. It was simply a matter of doing a lap around the area until her opponent had to land, then unloading the Octoshot into him.

These past few months, she felt worse about having to do that.

Phase two: Bubble Blower.

The easiest phase, by far. The bubbles themselves didn't do all that much damage, so Eighter just forced her way through them to attack.

Phase three: Autobomb Launcher.

This phase made her come to hate autobombs with a burning passion. Get too close, you're in range of the Hero Shot. Get too far, and you're swarmed by autobombs. Only option: Go close, and prey you don't get hit more times than you can take.

Phase four: Splatbomb and Stinger Missile camping.

Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Two quick, well placed bombs, and it was done.

Rising to his feet once more, Agent Three leapt high into the air, his fist engulfed in rippling ink.

Phase five: Splashdown onslaught.

Eighter had thought up several strategies to combat this phase, though they had varying degrees of success. For the most part though, they boiled down to 'run like hell, then shoot like crazy'.

That wasn't her strategy this time, though.

This time, she tossed the Octo Shot aside.

Agent noticed this. He also noticed Eighter shift her pigment to match his. Not a bad strategy, in order to avoid the damage of the Splashdown, but why?

The Splashdown landed, and as the dust and ink cleared, what was left was the sight of Eighter holding Three's balled fist in one hand, and her other arm around his back in a hug.

To say that Agent Three was rather perplexed would not be untrue. “Um, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Obviously,” she said, “I'm hugging you.”

“Yes, I can... I can see that.” He looked off to the side. It was... not uncomfortable, but just plain weird. “Why?”

“Because you look like you need it.”

Were Three able to look more perplexed, he would have. “But, weren't we just trying to kill each other a moment ago?”

“I wasn't,” she responded, “and I'm sure you weren't, either.”

Three really didn't know what to make of this situation. “Aren't we... enemies, though?”

“No,” Eighter replied. “We were never enemies. You already knew that, though, right, Timey?”

* * *

 The memory faded out, and Eighter gave a small smile.

“That was rather quick,” C.Q. Cumber spoke. “Were you able to surpass your foe?”

“I was never trying to surpass a foe,” Eighter responded, picking up the hairpiece. “Only the hero that song imprinted on me.”

* * *

 It was the small sneeze that woke Timey that morning. His nose seemed quite blocked up, by the sounds of it.

Sitting up straight, the first thing he wonder was what happened yesterday, or how he ended up in his own bed, as the memory was ever so slightly foggy.

Then, it came rushing back. The match, Rider, everything.

He let out a sigh. Timey felt quite emotionally drained right now, he must admit. Yet, at the same time...

“ _If we Octolings are known for anything, it's paying our friends back!” “There isn't a chance in hell we'd trade you for anything, Three.” “You saved my life, and I have every intention of repaying that debt to you.” “If those pricks try anything, I will cut a fish!” “You are our dear friend, and no-one will take that away from you.”_

He could honestly say he'd never felt so safe.

After a minute of contemplating, Timey moved to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. The first thing he did every morning was stand in front of the mirror, and recount his scars.

A weird morning ritual, to be sure, but it helped give him some peace of mind.

The first one he always noted, the one he put the most effort into covering up, was the light blue burn mark over his right eye. Generally speaking, the mark left by Commander Tartar didn't bother him all that much, but considering he made an effort to try not to draw attention to himself, he'd taken a few lessons on how to apply make-up.

Given that now Rider would be actively looking for him, he decided 'stand-out' was the best method of incognito.

The rest of his scars weren't quite as outlandish as that one. Small cuts on his tentacles, upper arms, and legs, calluses from holding the Hero Shot, small splotches of ink burns, where the Octarian forces got a few hits in. One that he did take particularly fond notice of, though, was the one just above the blue burn. A small wound about 2.5cm long, gotten from when he once had to headbutt a steel beam in Kraken form.

_'This is me,'_ he thought. _'This is just more proof of who I am.'_

A small smile crept onto his face. He found it rather ironic that he'd be feeling somewhat thankful to Tartar for taking control of him.

Stepping away from the mirror, Timey put on his usual clothes, and prepared to face the day.

Considering Callie was waiting for him in the living room, he felt certain he could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the '1/588' chance of identical Inklings is based on the amount of eye/skin/hair combinations for any single gender in the game. For the entire Inkling populace, the actual odds would be 1/1176.  
> In narrative terms, that's basically a certainty.  
> I will just say, I've gone through several different iterations of Timey's backstory, up to and including having him actually be Goggles, who left Team Blue after a spat too many with Specs. Of course, that would've been rather out of character for Goggles, I'd have to find a way to make him Agent 3 without making Rider Agent 3.5, and I had the desire to do something different for Timey, ie, the broken hero.  
> Also, Inner Agent 3. Screw that battle. For what it's worth, I did try to apply the strategy I used to beat it into this, while applying some fiction conventions to give it more story.  
> Welp, tally ho!


	5. Song Writer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after may, at times, be filled with oddities and revelations.

Deej crossed another line of writing off of the paper he wrote on. Yesterday was bad enough, but now he just couldn't focus on his work.

What work, one might ask? Lyric writing.

Deej was under no illusion that he was 'good' at it, even when starting out, but hard work and determination always won out, in the end.

It's just a shame that 'hard work and determination' were currently being overshadowed by 'unyielding contempt'.

Before yesterday, he'd have not taken notice of them so readily, but now, he could pick the members of Team Yellow-Green out of a crown from a mile away.

He counted seven of them in total -it was like they weren't trying to be covert about it-: the quartet from yesterday, alongside a girl dressed entirely in the School Uniform set (whom he guessed was that aptly named School Uniform person Pearl and Marina spoke of during the match), a short tentacled girl in a Grey Hoodie and yellow Bobble Hat, and a boy dressed in a Baby Jelly-Shirt and Retro Specs. Deej figured they must have been the remaining members of the former Team Blue.

The plan was to lay low for a few days, for Cods sake, couldn't those guys get the memo? Where the heck was he suppose to go with those guys at every corner?

Turns out, the answer stood by the corner of Ammo Knights. In fact, it was a sight he'd saw every day, but only just now put together that this was what he was seeing.

Marie of the Squid Sisters, standing over some metal grating, using her parasol to cover some of her face.

He wondered why it was he never noticed this before, before he remembered this little thing the brain had called the 'weirdness censor'. Not an official, biological thing, maybe, but it did cause people to outright ignore things that were... maybe not 'incomprehensible', but outlandish.

What he could tell, though, was that she was looking at him. The moment their eyes met, she dived into the grating.

That was a cue to follow if he ever saw one, that was for sure.

* * *

 

When he finally came out the other side, Deej was rather surprised to find himself in Octo Valley.

Well, maybe not too surprised, since he'd just found out the rest of his team basically operated out of here. Still, quite shocking that it was so close.

“Oh? Didn't expect anotha Octo to come by,” a voice all too familiar spoke. Of course Deej knew that voice; what Octarian wouldn't? He turned around, and saw...

“D...DJ Octavio?!” he shouted. Yes. It was the king of his species, in all his glory... trapped in a snow-globe. Odd. Regardless, he naturally fell into salute. “What are you doing here, your majesty?”

“Serving prison sentence,” came his response. “Stand down, would ya? You look like a buffoon.”

Deej did just that. “Still, to think I'd find our king here, of all places. Inkopolis is just filled with weird stuff.”

“Nah, this is pretty normal,” Octavio said. “Weird stuff is what happened yesterday. How's the kid doing, anyway?”

“You saw all that?” Deej asked. “And, more to the point, you care enough about Timey to ask?”

“What can I say? Kid left an impression.”

Deej found this rather interesting. It wasn't often that Octavio held anyone in high regard, yet alone an Inkling. Doubly so, since it happens to involve the same guy who beat him two years ago.

“That is the sort of guy Agent Three is,” Marie spoke up, stepping away from the shack. “Sorry to bring you here without explanation, Deej, but you definitely looked like you needed a place to be for today.”

“And much obliged, might I say,” Deej said in what might be described as a 'panicked hurry'. The feeling of standing before his king, the man he followed, and one of the two women who freed his soul, were two vastly different levels of intensity. He could honestly say he was less nervous around Octavio than he was around Marie. “Can I just say, miss Marie,” he tried calm his nerves as he spoke, “that I'm a huge fan.” He quickly pulled a CD case from one of his pockets. “Can you sign my copy of your latest hit?”

Marie gave a small laugh as she complied with the request, while Octavio rolled his eyes. “And there it is,” he muttered. “Surprised ya didn't ask her yesterday.”

“Well, yesterday wasn't exactly the day for geeking out, your majesty,” Deej retorted.

“I'm sure Agent Eight would disagree,” Marie handed the CD case back, “considering she practically froze when we showed up.”

“Well, that probably had to do with being caught off guard,” Deej replied, feeling rather giddy as he looked at the signed copy of the Fresh Start single. Starting to catch up to Timey in terms of signed albums, he thought.

The thought, however, brought him back into the sombre mood. “Say, mind if I ask something?”

“Go for it,” came Marie's response.

“Well, throughout yesterday, specifically, before the match, Timey still seemed bothered by something. I know it couldn't have been about Rider, since it was before he knew we were facing him. So, I was wondering if you had any idea what that was.”

Marie gave a small smile. “You know, I'm glad you're trying to look out for him. Really.” There was a small hint in the tone of her voice that basically said 'lord knows he doesn't look after himself half the time'. “To tell you the truth, I've only got a guess. It's a good guess, probably the truth, but a guess none-the-less.”

“Ya think it's about the hypno-shades?” Octavio asked.

“What, hypno-shades?” Deej shouted. “Why the heck are hypno-shades involved in this?”

“It's quite complicated,” Marie answered, “so I'll try to summarise as best I can. Roughly nine months ago, Callie went missing, and Octavio here had broken out of his first prison. During that time, Gramps and Three were away on a mission, which would later end up getting involved with the Deep Sea Metro, Kamabo, and leading to us gaining Eight and Off the Hook as allies. For about three months, I was on the search for a new agent, in order to help me find Callie, which is where Shades comes in as Agent Four. When we finally got to the depths of Cephalon HQ, we found out that Callie had gotten her hands on a pair of hypno-shades, and that Octavio here was using it to his advantage.” (Octavio: I didn't plan any of this, for the record. I just saw an opportunity, and took it.) “Anyway, one rather epic three-phase boss fight later, and things are back as they were. And, as it turned out, that was around the time Gramps, Three, and Eight finished up with whatever the heck happened over in the bay area with that human statue.”

Deej felt him mouth gape a little. “That was... a wall of text,” he muttered. “And how do the shades tie into Timey, then?”

“Simply put, I asked him to hold on to them for a while, and perhaps look into where they came from,” she answered. “My guess is that he managed to find something out about who gave Callie the shades, and... didn't like the answer, I suppose.”

“That would be something he'd fret over, it's true,” Deej said. “You wouldn't happen to have any backup documentation of these shades, would you?”

Marie raised a brow at the question. “I did take a few pics of the shades and the letter with them to archive. Why do you ask?”

Octavio shared in the confusion for a brief moment, before figuring something out. “Ah, that explains the 'do,” he said. “Yer part of da Intelligence division, ain't ya?”

“Yes, sir,” Deej responded. “Unit 2084, reporting for duty. And I never thought I'd say that again.”

Octavio bulked over in surprise, causing him to flip head over tentacles. “Is... that suppose to mean something?” Marie asked. “For once, I feel like I'm the one out of the loop.”

“2084...” Octavio muttered, reorienting himself. “Commander of the Intelligence division. The 'Iron-Blooded Orphan'. You've changed quite a bit since the military, kid.”

Deej sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, can kinda thank that song for that.”

Though he had not obvious mouth, there was a certain glint in Octavio's eyes that told them he was smirking. “Oi, kid,” he turned to Marie. “Try giving him a shot. He might just find something you missed.”

Marie gave the DJ a sidewards glance. “Against my better judgement, Octavio, I'm going to trust your claim,” she said. “But then again, I'd trust Deej simply for the fact that Three does.” Deej pumped his fist into the air, giving a call that was probably the Octarian equivalent to 'booyah'.

* * *

 

The inside of the shack was, as one might expect, as plain looking as the outside. Outside of the few pieces of technology and the large filing cabinet, the place looked as if it had jumped forward in time.

Deej gave a low whistle. “Nice place, this,” he said. “Very retro.”

“Replicated it after the one Gramps built in Octo Canyon,” Marie responded, going through the filing cabinet. “It might take a while for me to find it, so you mind if I ask a question?”

“It's about the whole 'Iron-Blooded Orphan', thing, ain't it?” he asked, to which she nodded. “Well, the name itself ain't much special; just the street name I had when I was a kid.”

“Aspiring to rap, even then, huh?”

“Nah. Was a thug.” That answer caught her slightly off guard. “Ya know how Octarians reproduce by cutting off tentacles? Well, some of us are unlucky enough to be born without that ability. Think the human equivalent would be 'sterile'. Anyway, those of us with this defect are basically cast out onto the streets and 'Octo-debris'; worse than trash. I had to survive on the streets for most of my life before I made it into the military.”

This was... more than what she expected from him. She went into that question expected 'edgy teenager phase', not 'I murdered several people before I was fourteen'. “That sounds... rough.”

“No kidding,” Deej responded, not too troubled. “It's kinda like a dark backstory's a prerequisite for this group of ours. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. After I joined the military, my skills helped me rise in the ranks, until I took command of the Intelligence division. Turns out I was a damn good interrogator. I had that spot for years, until I ended up in hospital with an injured leg. As luck would have it, though, during my stay, that particular dome lost power, and was about to collapse.” He took notice of the slight reaction Marie made. “At that time, I thought I was finally gonna bite the big one. Reckoned there wasn't much left for a street rat like myself. But, as it turns out, our favourite hero had other plans.”

A small smile crept onto Marie's face. “That's our Timey for you; always on time.”

Deej gave a short laugh. “Yup. Totally him. It was a few day later, though, that he showed up again, challenging his majesty for the Great Zapfish. At the time, I was rather on the fence about who to root for. On one hand, they guy who gave me a life. On the other, the guy who saved my life, and opened up new ideas. Then, well, I think you know what happened next.”

“The Inkantation,” Marie responded, finally grabbing hold of the sorted file.

“To us Octolings, that was known as 'The day the sun broke through the sky'. No one's really sure what it was about that song that caused it, but... It was kind of like... a door we didn't know existed was suddenly opened. Like we were wading through muck all our lives, and someone opened a drain. After that, well, the rest is history.”

“After that, Octolings began making their ways to the surface,” Marie surmised, placing the file on the table. “I always wondered whether they were bringing anything with them, or simply starting fresh.”

“Kinda depends on who ya ask,” Deej responded. “Me, I packed up a few items and 'classified' files, just in case.”

“Nice.” Marie flipped the file open, taking one of the photos held within. The picture, from what Deej could see, was of a hand written note. “This is a copy of the biggest clue we have,” Marie said. “Callie has gone on record to say she doesn't remember much about this letter, but we can safely assume whoever sent it also gave her the hypno-shades.”

“Sounds logical,” Deej replied, slipping into a more professional tone as he took the photo. “Doesn't look like it was written by an Octarian's hand, but it's...” he would have said 'familiar', had something not just clicked in his mind. It was more than just wondering if he'd seen it a while ago; he had been seeing it constantly for the past few months. The way the 'i' curves ever so unevenly, the way the 'e' looks like it's top heavy, how the 'n' looked as if it was trying to extend into an 'm', the way a 'g' was shaped in such a way that it looked like a 'y', even the fact that the 't' in the writers sign of as Callie's 'BigyesT Fan\' was capitalised. This was the handwriting of someone asking to be found out, not by people hunting him, but by the receiver.

This? This was basically flirting in written form. In fact, he could make out little numbers written somewhere adjacent to the letters previously listed: A 1 above the 't', a two in the place of the 'i's dot, so on and so forth. The fact was, though, that it was just so damn obvious, and that was probably what made it go under the radar for so long. When it came to investigating just about anything, it's easy to overlook the obvious. 'Hiding in plain sight', as the saying goes. The more obvious, he found, the less likely you were to actually notice it as weird.

“Everything alright over there?” Marie spoke up. “You've been staring at that one for a good few minutes.”

“Yeah, just...” How was he going to say it? “Just figured something out, is all.”

“Not a good thing, from the sounds of it,” Marie surmised.

“No. Not a good thing,” came his rather sombre reply. “I'll start by saying that there's no malice in this what-so-ever.”

“So, it was actually written by a well intending fan?”

“Bit more than a fan.” Deej let out a sigh. “Poor guy just can't catch a break, can he?”

“'Poor guy'? You don't mean...” Deej handed the photo back, pointing at the things he noticed. “Oh, Jesus Carp. Then, that means he was so distracted yesterday...”

“Because he realised his attempt at being cute caused both of you harm,” Deej finished. “I swear. It's like Timey's just a magnet for misfortune. First what happened with Goggles, his run in with Kamabo, yesterday, and now... this. Really wonder how he held out so long.”

“He strong, that's for sure,” Marie answered. “Perhaps too strong. I wonder how Callie might react, though.”

“Me thinks she already knows,” Deej stated, much to Marie's surprise. “Miss Callie may be the bright and cheerful one of you two, but that doesn't quite mean she's dim. I reckon she already figured it out, and feigned ignorance to protect Timey in her own way.”

Marie was silent for a good moment. What stung the most for her was the simple fact that she didn't piece it together sooner. It made all too much sense, when she thought about it; Timey probably found those shades in some op-shop somewhere in the city, concluded that Callie might like them, and considering the amount of stress she was going through at the time, probably thought it'd be a good distraction. So, he writes a letter to go with it, playing up the secret agent shtick by adding a code to decipher. Had events not unfolded as they did, she wouldn't be able to view this as anything other than 'cute'.

“Talk about rough,” she muttered. “Trying to do something nice, only to backfire in the worst possible way. Such a turn of events might have killed a lesser man.”

“Cod knows it tried,” Deej agreed. “I can only wonder how Timey's doing today, what with Team Yellow-Green out in full force.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, Timey was honestly having quite a good day, if only on account of him and Callie specifically _not_ being around Inkopolis Square, where the entirety of Team Yellow-Green were. Instead, this duo were currently enjoying some quiet time at the Museum d'Alfonsino. Generally speaking, this place wasn't the most popular spot for dates among Inklings (or Octolings, for that matter. They much preferred places with heavy machinery), but considering Callie was quite the fan of the arts, and Timey a fan of not being recognised when he didn't want to be (granted, both of them were fans of that, it was just a matter of his being a more recent priority), this place was quite easily their favourite.

Except at night. Those statues were just downright creepy.

Regardless, Timey found his eyes fixed primarily on an almost child-like drawing. If there was one thing about an Inkling's sense of style, it was that when it came to art, the passion and joy that went into it shine more than brush techniques. This picture, in particular, was crudely drawn with crayon, depicting a family of four: two children -one at least fourteen, and the other somewhat younger- in the foreground, and their parents in the background. On the table before the children were an assortment of foodstuff, ranging from sweets, to fruits, to different types of sushi. The top portion of the image was filled with party decorations, effectively depicting a birthday of sorts.

What drew Timey to it in particular, though, was the fact that a few months ago, it had been taken down on request of the original artist (the younger Inkling) to be edited slightly. The edit in question was minuscule, almost unnoticeable, to those that didn't know what to look for.

The change was on the older of the two in the foreground. The thickness of her tentacles had been changed, made thinner around the ends, and the black marks around her eyes had gone from one solid spot to two around each eye.

Originally, it felt like a family enjoying a large birthday. Now, it felt like it was a birthday among friends, where one such friend just so happened to be an Octoling.

It was subtle, and would go over the heads of most every Inkling, but Timey liked it. It gave him hope.

A young Inkling walked up besides him. He was dressed in the basic of the basic attires, complete with that silly white headband every Inkling started out with. Not many Inklings held on to that thing, generally throwing them out when their collection of three-star headgear grows substantially. Timey, though? He kept his on a mannequin head in his room, the base of which read 'Forget not thy shell'. He was fairly certain it was adapted from the human saying 'remember your roots'. A strange saying, he believed, as humans weren't plant based life. What was he on about, again? Oh, right. Newbie on his 3 o'clock. Judging from the look in his eyes, and the shade of green in his tentacles, Timey hazarded a guess that he was the artist behind this piece.

“Say,” the Inkling spoke, “what do you think of this one?”

As if it wasn't obvious before, he went and asked the classic artist question. “It's very optimistic,” Timey responded. “The sort of hope that comes from this piece; I like it.” Well, since he has the opportunity... “I do kinda wonder about the change made, though. Not that I dislike the new idea behind it, but I wonder if something happened to the previous friend depicted.”

“Would you believe me if I said they were the same person?” That was... not the answer he'd expected to hear.

“But how?” Timey asked. “I mean, before it was an Inkling, and now...” He bit his tongue on instinct. A hypothetical just struck him: What if this girl had decided to go through some cosmetic change, instead of it actually being an Octoling? There had been a few instances of Inklings wanting to try out the same look an Octoling had, by means of a little bit of makeup for the eyes, and either a really good wig or full blown cosmetic surgery for the tentacles. The simple fact that it was actually a thing made it increasingly harder to know just who's actually in the know about the whole 'Octolings in Inkopolis'.

The artist gave a warm, knowing smile. “So, you're aware of it too,” he said. Well, that answered one question, at least. “Actually, she was always like this. Ran away from home young, and made it to Inkopolis. For a while, she was basically posing as a homeless squid until my family took her in. Kept the secret for the longest time.”

“Until something caused the beans to spill.”

“It was a plumbing failure,” the artist admitted. “Piping broke, knocking off her wig and smudging the makeup. She locked herself in her room for several days after that, afraid of what we'd do. That's when I made this change.”

“In order to prove your sister still had a place,” Timey surmised, giving a smile. “It's sappy and cheesy as all heck, but I like it.”

“I just figured I'd need to do something pretty extreme to prove it to her,” the artist replied. “Isn't that the way it goes? Doing something over the top for the ones you love?”

“Something over the top...” Timey muttered sombrely. “I tried something like that once. It... backfired, so to speak. It ended up putting her in a rather... perilous situation.”

“Bad luck of the draw, huh,” the artist said quietly. “I'm guessing you haven't talked together about it?”

“I'm... afraid,” Timey said. “It's sad, really, just how many things I'm afraid of.”

“I believe you,” the artist said. “Especially after what happened yesterday.”

“You saw that?”

The artist gave a rather dry chuckle. “Buddy, everyone saw that. Heck, it's all over Squidder.”

Timey cringed slightly. “Yeah, haven't checked since the day before.”

“Can't blame you,” he replied. “Heck, most everybody's outraged that Rider would do something like that. I may be new to the scene, but even I know Turf Wars are not suppose to involve emotional trauma.”

“That's...” Timey didn't exactly know what word to use. He wanted to say 'a relief', but he didn't exactly wish bad things on Rider. “That's welcoming, I guess.” Yes. 'Welcoming' seemed like the right word. Not against having support, but at least still sympathising with the other side of the situation. “Life is just... scary at times.”

“Isn't everything?”

Timey gave a rather dry laugh. “Look at me, getting wisdom from a guy three years my junior.”

“Ah. You're seventeen?” the artist asked.

“Since two months ago,” Timey answered. “Don't look it, though, do I?”

“You certainly wear the age well,” he laughed. “You know,” he continued with a rather nostalgic tone, “I've actually seen loads of your matches, Mr Timey. The way you take to the field, it's inspiring, really.”

“What, so I'm a celebrity in my own right?” Timey asked in faux sarcasm. “Can't say I aspired for that. After all, the path of a hero is a lonely one.”

“So you don't consider yourself a celebrity, but you do a hero?” the artist critiqued. “Well, maybe walking the road itself is lonely, but the hero has more followers than he knows. Mayhaps he just needs to look behind himself every once in a while?”

That was... certainly an interesting way to look at it. “I'll keep that in mind, then,” Timey responded. “I don't think I got your name, by the by. I can't image it's 'Theodore', like you've signed it.”

“You'd be right,” came the answer. “My actual name is Basic. My parents weren't the most creative.”

Timey let out a small laugh. “Naming conventions, am I right?”

“Too true.” Basic looked at his watch for a brief moment. “I should get going,” he said. “I'm making my Turf War debut today, so I really shouldn't be late.”

“Well, don't let me keep you any longer,” Timey said. “It was fun talking with you. Gave me a lot to think about, at least.”

“Right back at you,” Basic responded. “I'll see you around, Mr Hero.”

That moment later, and Timey was once again left to his own devices. Well, mostly. “You can come out now, Cal.”

The squid in questioned sheepishly poked her head out from around the corner. “So you noticed me.”

“Despite your boasting, you're not the stealthiest squid on the block,” he replied with a smile.

Callie laughed lightly, moving to Timey's side. “He seemed like a good kid,” she said. “I didn't want to interrupt the conversation.”

“He'll go far, that's for certain.” A slight cough escaped Timey's throat. Huh. Hope he's not catching something. “So, about that... thing...”

“I know,” came the immediate response.

Timey stumbled a little. “But,” he tried to begin. “But it's about the...”

“The hypno-shades,” Callie said. “And I told you, I know.”

Timey stuttered around his words for a brief moment, before letting his dejected expression show. “Guess you probably don't think highly of me for it,” he said quietly, “considering the situation my actions got you into.”

“I don't blame you.”

He didn't quite believe that, regardless of whether he wanted to or not. “But, because of me, you almost...”

“I know,” Callie said sadly, “but it's not your fault. Sure, it happened because of a mistake, but it's just that: a mistake. I'm sure the others would understand as well.”

Timey paused for a moment, both to formulate a response, and to cough slightly. “I must seem like quite the mess,” he said, hands in pockets. “Here I am, worrying myself into a stupor, and you just... forgive me, just like that.”

Callie hummed an agreement. “Yep, just like that. Because that's all there is to it. And for the record,” she flicked him on the forehead, knocking his hat off, “you're not a mess. At least, not more than the rest of us.”

Timey was about to make the comment of 'I see', yet instead, he broke into a coughing fit. “You alright there, Tee?” Callie asked. “That didn't sound too good.”

“Yeah, I'm... I'm alright,” he croaked out. Damn, his throat felt scratchy after that. “Be a shame to catch something after all this, huh?”

A laugh was shared between the two. At the very least, the pleasant mood had returned.

* * *

 

At an undisclosed location, in an unsuspecting part of the city (Shades' apartment, a block or two away from Flounder Heights), two people worked to figure out the secrets of Kamabo's sanitisation process.

Shades let out a small sigh. “Another damn roadblock,” she said, tossing another file onto the pile of Octarian scripts about brainwashing technology. “How are things on your end, Ida?”

“A little better, thankfully,” Marina responded, prodding at test-tubes filled with different coloured inks. “From the looks of it, the whole 'sanitising' thing was an elaborate ink transfusion. It'd probably take all night, but I could probably set up a machine to keep someone alive while performing a transfusion, and maybe be done before lunch.”

“Well, at least one of us got somewhere,” Shades muttered, taking another file from the stack of unread documents. “All I'm finding is the same junk over and over again about 'better ways' to hypnotise folks. Seriously, why was _this_ the stuff you brought when you left Octarian society?”

“Well, I needed some form of bargaining chip, just in case,” Marina defended herself. “I wasn't sure what'd do well, so I just grabbed everything I could.”

“Well, it's better than nothing,” Shades replied. Huh. Project Hera? Wasn't that a name from old human stories? “You think Deej would have some of these?”

“It's possible,” Marina said, “but we should probably finish with what we've got first.” Her eyes shifted to the side, glancing at the teal skinned Octoling that stood in the corner. Dedf1sh regarded the two of them with complete indifference. “I can't imagine how she'll feel, coming out of this.”

“I don't want to,” Shades said. This particular project was looking more and more like what they needed. “Say, what can you tell me about Project Hera?”

“That old job?” Marina asked. “Actually, that one might just work. It was a pair of shades commissioned by his majesty to counteract hypnosis on all levels. Cod only knows why he'd ask us to make something to go against the very thing he employs, but he did. We never got past the prototype phase, though, before the other higher ups deemed it too costly an investment.”

“Damn shame, that,” Shades muttered. “That prototype still around?”

“Probably,” Marina shrugged. “It was made of Sardinium, after all. Considering it also doubled as a pair of hypno-shades, it's entirely possible they were used by one of the soldiers you encountered.”

“Just narrows it down to every damn Octarian I know,” Shades said slightly bitterly. “Got a pic of these things? I'm guessing they won't look like the average pair.”

“One moment.” Marina pulled her phone out, and begun swiping through her pictures. “I did make sure to back up everything on the hard-drives before I left Cephalon HQ, so I should... ah, there it is.” She handed the phone over the Shades. “Tell me if it looks familiar. That'll have to be our starting point.”

“No promises,” Shades responded, taking the phone. She took one look at the glasses in question... and her mouth immediately dropped. “Are you. Freaking. Kidding me.”

“What is it? Do you recognise them?”

“Recognise?” Shades parroted. “There the same damn glasses that hypnotised Callie.”

A spanner fell to the ground, making an un-elegant clatter. “You're kidding,” she muttered. “Out of all the... How could it... The odds are...”

Shades raised a hand. “I think we should just agree,” she said, “that things like probability mean eff all to us.” With her free hand, she pulled out her own phone. “We'd best tell the others about this. It'll at least be one bit of good news.”

**Chat log:**

**Agent_4Shades:** We have good news.

**Agent_Octopod:** I have bad news.

**Agent_2:** We have news to report, and it's not the best.

**Three_O'Clock (Timey):** I have something I need to confess.

_Several people are typing._

**MC_Princess:** damn. big day i guess.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** No kidding.

**Agent_1:** How about we start with the bad, then. Eighter, what's new? Or did Octavio get a tentacle stuck in the toaster again?

**DJ_Hyperfish:** I'm sorry??? Is there a story behind this???

_King_Boombox has joined the chat._

**King_Boombox (Octavio, obviously):** IT WAS ONE TIME, CALLIE. ONE. DAMN. TIME.

**Tenta-fool:** Yo, hold the phones. Since when was his majesty part of these chat rooms?

**King_Boombox:** I always had access to them, 2084.

**Agent_Octopod:** Can we FOCUS?

**Three_O'Clock:** Eighter is yelling, so it must be pretty bad. Continue.

**Agent_Octopod:** Thank you.

**Agent_Octopod:** I found some flyers promoting an upcoming Turf War tournament on my way out of the Metro. The Square Jokers Cup.

**Agent_1:** How is that bad?

**Agent_Octopod:** Because the winner of the tournament can have any one wish fulfilled. Within reason. And I can confirm that Team Yellow-Green will be entering.

**Tenta-fool:** Das bad.

**Agent_2:** The Jokers Cup. I've read about that one. It's a mostly lawless tourney. Seven minute Turf Wars with teams that can range anywhere between one to twelve members, with no limit on weapons, subs, specials, or even clothing. Chaos incarnate.

**Agent_Octopod:** And Rider has a full twelve going in.

**Agent_1:** That Mondo-bad.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** That's not even a real word, and I agree with it.

**Agent_Octopod:** The preliminaries for this tournament start tomorrow, so we need to act on this.

**Agent_2:** Carp, that is bad. So, who wants to go next?

**DJ_Hyperfish:** I think Shades and I will hold off until the end, just so it can be a bit uplifting.

**Three_O'Clock:** Good thinking. Marie, is the thing you found out about where the hypno-shades came from, by any chance?

**Agent_2:** And I'm guessing that's what you want to talk about, too?

**Three_O'Clock:** Yeah.

**King_Boombox:** What, are ya gonna reveal that you ended up being the one who gave them? That'd be a twist.

**Three_O'Clock:** :(

**King_Boombox:** oh holy squid you aint kidding

**Tenta-fool:** So how did T-dog get a hold of those in the first place?

**Three_O'Clock:** I found them in the bargain bin of a shop that Spyke's been running out of the plaza. I thought Callie might like them.

**Agent_2:** It's like trouble just has a way of finding you. Four, Marina, what was your bit, then?

**Agent_4Shades:** Believe it or not, but it actually concerns those glasses. Apparently, they were part of something called 'Project Hera'.

**Tenta-fool:** The counter-hypnotism project?

**King_Boombox:** I remember that one. It was my attempt at a middle finger to the sashimi-pricks that made the original hypno-shades.

**MC_Princess:** So, you hate the hypno-shades, but you still use them?

**King_Boombox:** I'm an opportunist, what can I say?

**Agent_4Shades:** ANYWAY. If we can use those shades, and if Ida works on this thing overnight, we could very well have Dedf1sh unsanitised and her old self by roughly 11 AM, according to her calculations.

**Agent_2:** Okay, that IS good news.

**Agent_1:** Now we just have that tournament thing to worry about. How should we go about it?

**MC_Princess:** You leave the signing up part to me, squiddos.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** It's probably for the best if we go in as two teams, rather than one. I just checked its site, and it seems that even people from defeated teams can merge with other teams if theirs enough slots open.

**MC_Princess:** u got it b

**Agent_4Shades:** If we're particularly lucky, we might be able to convince Dedf1sh to join one of our teams. At least bolster our numbers a little.

**Agent_2:** Only time will tell, I guess. We'll reconvene tomorrow, then.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, we begin the big arc.  
> All bets are off. All rules are out.  
> Their stories known, no matches will be thrown.  
> We shall see who wins this bout.  
> … Don't mind the poetry, please.  
> Tally ho, then.


	6. So it Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The was begins. The dead rise again.  
> Leaders struggle to take their positions, but their allies won't abandon them.

Fireworks shot off into the sky, signifying the start of the Jokers Cup preliminaries. The crowds were bustling, either to their seats, or to their match.

Three cephelapods all too familiar stood by the lobby entrance. “So, this is what the big league is like,” Eighter muttered, using her trusted Splatling as a stand to prop herself against. “Kinda nerve racking.”

“Ya know what else is nerve racking?” Deej questioned, tapping his foot impatiently. “The fact that our leader ain't here! Where the bloody hell is Timey?”

“Calm down Deej,” Shades said. Compared to the other two, her attire was the one that had changed the most for the event, having swapped the Basic Tee and Cream Basics for the FA-01 Reversed and the Hero Snowboots Replicas. “Maybe the trains are just running a little behind. We still have half an hour until our match.”

“Considering how much we have riding on this, that's not a good thing,” Deej muttered. His phone buzzed. Checking the caller id, he was slightly relieved to see Timey's handle. “Yo, T-dog, where you at?” he spoke, making sure the phone was on speaker.

“S...sorry, guys,” Timey spoke, sounding like a seahorse that had been run over, “I... don't think I'll be able to...” a sneeze cut him off.

“Jeez, you sound terrible,” Eighter muttered.

“Yeah, I think I...” he coughed roughly, “might have caught something.”

“Sounds like it,” Shades said. “Looks like we'll have to make do, then. Do we know who we're up against?”

Eighter tapped away at her phone. “From the looks of it, our opponents are a Team S4 Backup. Don't know what that means.”

A feeling of dread washed over Shades and Deej. “Did... did you just say 'S4'?!” Deej shouted. “A team comprised of some of the best damn Turfers out there?!”

“I take it all back, we're royally screwed,” Shades muttered. “We're screwed with a capital S.”

“It's... that bad, huh?” Eighter asked.

“It is, really,” Timey admitted. “I... don't think there's... much hope here...”

“You can't just give up!” a voice unfamiliar to all but the man over the phone spoke. The trio turned to be met with an Inkling wearing the most basic of gear, with his hair kept in the mush-cut style. “If you give up now, before it's even started, then what was the point of our talk yesterday?”

“That voice,” Timey wheezed out between coughs. “Is that you, Basic?”

“You know this kid, T-dog?”

“Yeah, I met him yesterday,” he replied. “He's an artist who's new on the Turf War scene.”

“Nice, and all that,” Deej said quietly. “Look, kid, it's not that we're planning to give up now, it's just that we're going up against the best of the best in _the damn preliminaries,_ and we're already down a man. Can ya blame us for feeling like the world's our enemy?”

“If that's the case,” Basic spoke, “then it'll have to consider me an enemy too. If you need an extra player, then sign me up!”

The trio raised a brow each. “Are you... sure about this?” Timey spoke. “You only started turfing yesterday. You're what, level four by now?”

“Five, actually,” Basic responded, “and while I might not be able to do much against the S4, I can at least help you cover some ground.” He bowed his head in plead. “Please. I want to help!”

Team Bangaichi mused the offer over. “Well, what do y'all think?” Deej said. “Should we take him along?”

“I'm in favour of that,” Eighter spoke up. “We have nothing to lose if we do. If anything, we've more to lose if we don't take him on.”

“And considering we should hopefully get some backup later, it's all the more reason to try and get the numbers advantage,” Shades added. With a great deal of speed, she tapped away at her phone. “Ida, it's me,” she said into the receiver. “How are things looking on that job?”

“Thankfully, going well,” Marina responded. “If the negotiations that are bound to happen go just as well, you should have backup by half time.”

“Copy that, thanks.” Shades hung up, then turned back to the group. “We'll still need every cephalopod we can get, even with backup by the 3 minute 30 mark.”

“Guess that settles it, then,” Deej stated. “Welcome to the fold, Basic.”

“Thank you, sir!” Basic replied. “I promise I won't let you down!”

“Trust me, mate,” Deej said, “you don't have a high bar to reach for with us.”

The roaring crowd sounded, as the previous match's combatants left the lobby. “And speaking of bars,” Shades muttered bitterly, “here comes Yellow-Green.”

A team of twelve Inklings strode from the lobby with victory in their steps. At the lead was Rider, as expected, followed immediately by the six they knew for certain were part of Team Yellow-Green: Stealth Goggles, Bamboo Hat, School Uniform (dressed in the appropriate attire for the name), Headphones, a male Inkling known as Specs (Retro Specs, Baby Jelly Shirt & Tie, Smoky Wingtips), and a female one by the name of Bobble Hat (Bobble Hat, Grey Hoodie, Purple Sea Slugs). With them, though, were five other Inklings: Three male Inklings, one wearing Squidfin Hook Cans, Black V-Neck Tee, and Yellow-Mesh Sneakers, one sporting Half-Rim Glasses, Pink Easy-Stripe Shirt, and Shark Moccasins, and one shorter than the rest, dressed in the full Milky Eminence set, and two girls, one wearing the Takoroka Visor, Navy King Tank, and Neon Delta Straps, and the other the Squid Clip-ons, Octobowler Shirt, and Mint Dakroniks.

“And that was an inkredible display from Team Sunlight-Yellow-Green!” the announcer yelled through the intercomm (and considering it wasn't Pearl, she sounded particularly normal for an announcer). “They're quite the curious horde, but man can this hodgepodge of squids get the job done!”

“Team Sunlight-Yellow-Green? Quite the pompous name they've got,” Eighter muttered. “What do we know about the new five, though?”

“Looks like they've merged with Team Gloves,” Shades replied. “They're quite the skilled team, on par with Rider. And... isn't that Prinz from Team Emperor?”

“You squiding me right now?” Deej responded in shock. “They've got someone from the freaking Monarch Team on their side? How freaking determined are they to wreck Timey's life?”

“This is not good,” Timey said, voice filled with a degree of panic. “Hold on, I'll get over there and...”

“Absolutely not,” Eighter cut off. “You're in no shape to take to the field. Just trust that we'll be able to handle this, okay? Shades, what can you say about our coming opponents?”

“It's an eight person team, comprised of members from each of the S4's teams,” Shades responded. “Their defacto leader is Aviators from Team Purple -who is totally ripping my look, just saying-. Joining from the same team is a Sploosh-o-matic user named Stitch, Jersey and Designer Headphones from Team Cyan, Octoglasses and Straw from Team Pink, and finally, B-Sailor and W-Sailor from Team Orange. It's quite the ensemble, especially since the S4 themselves have already passed the preliminaries.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” Deej muttered. “We're actually having to go against the best of the best, in a tourney without rules. This really is the pits.”

“Then why bother?” Rider called out. Great. Now he's trying to egg them off. “If you really don't have faith in your cause, then how do you expect to prove yourself?”

“Aw, shove your Roller up your beak hole and piss off,” Deej waved him off. “Unlike you, we're not trying to make Timey someone he's not.”

“We're just trying to get our friend back!” the Inkling known as Specs shouted, fronting up to Deej. “You're the ones trying to keep him from us!”

“Oh, don't you start with that whale shit!” Deej shouted back. “Timey was never your friend to begin with! Get it through your thick head already!”

Great. Now they're causing a scene. Last thing they needed today. “Alright, you two. Break it up,” Eighter said, getting between them. “Come along, Deej. We have a match to get to.”

“But this punk..!”

“Calm yourself, already,” Shades added. “Trust me, they're not worth it.”

That was the line that killed any further conversation with them. A thankfully good result, all things considered.

* * *

 

“Welcome, one and all, to the seventh match of the Square Jokers Cup preliminaries!” the announcer called out. “As always, I am your host, Mesh, bringing you the play-by-play! This round, we have some very interesting combatants stepping onto the field at Mako-Mart!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. “Now, let's introduce our contestants!” The screen panned over to the team coloured a bright cyan. “First off, we have members of the S4's teams, united under one banner! We have Team S4 Backup, with their defacto leader: Aviators!” The Inkling in question waved to the camera, clearly use to being the focus of attention. “And going against them is a group that you've probably heard of recently. While their leader may be under the weather, the folks of Team Bangaichi are still stepping up to the plate!” The camera switched over to the magenta Team Bangaichi, whom all regarded the attention with warm and kind indifference. “Without further ado, let's get this seven minute sea slug fest under way!”

Both teams readied up. “Seriously? Sea slug fest?” Eighter muttered, testing the familiar weight of the Splatling in hand. “That was just lame.”

“It's a pun, Eighter. They're suppose to be lame,” Shades responded.

“Eh, some are fun,” Deej said, turning to Basic. “You doing alright there, kid?”

“Nervous,” he replied, “but I'll manage. What's the plan for today?”

“No matter how we slice it, we're horrendously out gunned. Our best bet's to work with the limitless types of Subs and Specials we're allowed, and hold out in a war of attrition,” Shades explained. “Eighter, I want you to take the middle choke-point, since you have the greatest combination of range and spread. Deej and I will take the left and right, respectively. Basic, we need you filling out all the turf we miss on our way forward, popping Ink Armour at every chance you get. It ain't the most glamorous job out there, but it's honestly the best shot we have if/when Dedf1sh arrives.”

Contrary to her expectations, Basic gave a nod of determination. “I understand,” he said. “If that's the job you think best for me, then it's the job I shall do.”

Shades gave a small smile. “You've good head on your shoulders, Basic,” she said. “Try not to lose it.”

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mesh sounded out once more. “Let's get ready to SPLAT IT UP!”

* * *

 

At the Cuttlefish Shack, Timey sat on the couch wrapped in a heavy blanket. To say that he looked 'worse for wear' would be like saying a ship with a massive hole in its hull was 'less than sea worthy'. The only thing that looked more like 'death warmed over' than him would be a sanitised Octoling. “This sucks,” he muttered. “This absolutely sucks.”

“Are ya still going on about that?” Octavio asked, leaning against his prison to get a good view of the TV. “I get it, but can ya shut up about it for five minutes?”

“In five minutes, the match will probably be decided,” Timey muttered dejectedly. “I should be out there with them, not sitting here, sipping on soup.”

“Kid, ya can't be expected to do everything,” Octavio responded. “Now keep yer ass down, shut it, and drink the damn soup.”

Timey pouted, as he kept his eyes on the TV.

* * *

 

One minute into the match, and things were looking good for Team Bangaichi. Their plan was going well, holding the three choke-points.

Then, thirty seconds later, it all went to shit.

All it took was two particularly brutal strikes. Two teams of three taking the side paths to overpower Deej and Shades, while two kept Eighter pinned down. Now, here she was, a Sprinkler covering the left path, a Splash Wall on her right, and basically the entire enemy time coming from the front.

While these odds were regrettable, she did not feel too threatened by them. If she could go against Timey with nothing but an Octo-shot and some Splat Bombs, she can take a small army with a Splatling and a literal arsenal of Subs and Specials.

The Splatling roared to life, as the barrels began to spin. _'This is nothing,'_ she thought, as she let the Splatling discharge against the oncoming foes, forcing them behind cover. _'Compared to when I sacrificed myself for her, these mooks are nothing.'_ As she allowed the Splatling to rev up again, she felt her brain come to a brief standstill. _'Wait. Sacrifice myself? And... who is 'her'?'_ Were these some of her old memories surfacing? If so, why now?

The line of a Splatterscope took her from her daze, as she quickly rolled to cover before the shot hit. Contrary to popular belief, it is possible to dodge roll with any weapon. It just took a considerable amount of skill to do so with anything heavier than a pair of Dualies. Eighter, as it so happens, has had plenty of time to study a certain someone's form when dodge rolling with a shooter, and apply it to a weapon as heavy as the Splatling.

Ducking out for a brief second, Eighter opened fire, and... huh, she actually got two of them with that one. Nice. If she could keep this up, then..

“ _You can't do this!” someone called from behind her. “Damn it, for once in your life of free will, just do what I say and run! You can't take them alone!”_

Oh Cod damn it, not now. Listen, memories, it's great that you've finally decided to show up -lord knows Eighter's missed you-, but now really isn't the time for this.

“ _Sorry, love,” Eighter replied, “but I can't do that. If I run now, then they'll just catch, and we'll all be screwed.”_

Did... did she seriously talk like that back then? Okay, ignore that, people change after memory loss. Still, she needs to focus on the task at hand, so can we put a bookmark in this for the moment? She kinda has to be a hero for a hero right now?

“ _Would you stop trying to emulate that damn squid, already?!” the one behind her shouted. “Damn it, why are you being like this? I...” Eighter finally turned around to face this girl. “I can't go alone. Not without you!”_

Huh. Not bad looking, in Eighter's opinion. Actually, that's underselling it. She wasn't completely sure what it was about her: Maybe the uneven tentacles, or the steel grey eyes, or perhaps even the slightly darker complexion compared to most Octolings. Maybe it was just a combination of all of the above, but this girl? She was just doing it for her. “Damn it, girl, focus,” Eighter muttered. “Fantasise later, splat now.”

Ducking out from cover once more, she let loose another burst from the Splatling. Unfortunately, the Squelcher and Sploosh-o-matic users on the enemy team had taken to the higher ground, forcing her to move backwards as she fired. Deej, Shades, and even Basic, were making their way up the sides, but the sheer fact that they were outnumbered two to one kept their advance short.

And considering half of Eighter's brain was currently somewhen between now and two years ago, things were far from peachy.

* * *

 

“Damn it, boy! Put that Bamboozler down!” Octavio shouted. “You're not in any condition to go into battle!”

Timey struggled to keep himself on his feet, having to use the Bamboozler he grabbed from the shack as a makeshift crutch. His attire was largely the same, save for the fact that it was incredibility messy, and topped off with a Squid Facemask. “I... don't care,” he coughed out. “I need... to be there. Fight alongside them...”

“Boy, don't make me break out of this thing just to tie you down!”

“We both know... you won't get out before I reach Inkopolis,” Timey retorted, before breaking into another coughing fit.

“Jesus Carp,” Octavio muttered. “You're ya own worst enemy, ya know that? You're the only person capable of killing you.”

“Maybe,” Timey admitted, standing above the grating, “but it's my life to kill.”

As the Inkling dived through the grate, Octavio made a shout of exasperation. “That one didn't even make sense, dumbass!”

* * *

 

Bobble Hat watched the match play out with conflicting emotions.

On one hand, considering these were the people trying to keep Goggles away from them (according to Rider, Stealth Goggles, and Headphones, anyway), she was partly glad that they were effectively on the receiving end of a curb stomp.

On the other hand though, from their perspective, she and the rest of her current team were the ones trying to rob them of their friend. It wasn't hard to feel empathy for them, since they're basically in the same situation.

Before the events of one year ago, Bobble Hat worked under the philosophy of 'smile through it all, and it will work out'. After it, though, nary a twitch upwards. When she had first heard from Rider that they may have found him, her heart nearly skipped one too many beats.

Despite everything, she actually felt she was ready to move on. She felt like she could accept the fact that Goggles was... no longer.

Then all this happened, like an old scar being torn open with rusty pliers.

Her eyes silently looked over the rest of Team Sunlight-Yellow-Green (a seriously ridiculous name, in her opinion). For the most part, they were rooting for S4 Backup to win this match, if only to get their 'biggest obstacles' out of the way of them winning the prize.

It broke her heart, honestly, to see just what has become of the old Team Blue and Team Yellow-Green. Specs used to be the smart and anxious one, yet here he was, not seeing the irony in all this. Even Headphones, poor, sweet Headphones, seemed to have it out for Team Bangaichi. Glove's team, as well as Prinz, had mostly been keeping to themselves about the matter. She was thankful for that, in a way. At least this way, she could pretend like they knew for certain that this was a battle with no right side to it.

It saddened her, just how much had changed, and how much had still managed to stay the same. The more familiar everyone acted, like things were alright, the more jarring it was when the wounds showed up again.

Excusing herself from the group (with the classic excuse of 'toilet'), Bobble Hat found herself a small corner of the Square to sit down in, and be with her thoughts.

Said corner, as it so happens, was right next to Grizzco. The very place it all happened.

While she definitely had a level of distaste for the business (Seriously, how the hell does it stay afloat?), she wouldn't allow that to keep her from a quiet place to think.

What would keep her from her thoughts, though, was the sudden sound of someone hitting the ground hard.

It was currently well known that only a select few people used that grated... thing, not far from where she was right now. They used it to get to and from a place no one was sure of, and no one really cared to look into.

Bobble Hat poked her head around the corner, to the sight of an Inkling dressed in green, collapsed on the floor, with a Bamboozler 14 in his right hand. He was trying to get back on his feet, but seemed to be struggling something fierce.

Naturally, she couldn't just leave him there.

She jogged over to the Inkling, getting an arm under his shoulder for support. “Are you alright?” she asked. “Here, let me help.”

“Can't... can't fall here,” the Inkling muttered, in an all too familiar voice. “Can't... let them carry... my burden alone.”

“Burden? What are you...” At that moment, it clicked. The colour of this guys tentacles matched the colour of Team Bangaichi. On top of that, the familiarity of his voice, even his eyes, felt like this was an old friend.

“You're... you're him,” she muttered.

The Inkling looked at her, and immediately panicked, which led to him falling to the ground again. “Damn it. Why now?” he muttered, before breaking out in cough.

It was then and there, that Bobble Hat finally figured something out: He was sick, hence he wasn't on the field. He wanted to help his friends, hence why he was forcing himself. He was afraid of her, and thereby, the rest of her team.

Hence why he wasn't really Goggles.

His eyes didn't have the look of someone who didn't know himself, and was afraid to. They were the eyes of someone who knew himself, and was scared of losing it.

And somehow, Rider and the others weren't seeing that.

For her, it answered so much, and made her ever so slightly sadder.

Steeling her nerves, Bobble Hat stepped towards him once more, lifting him back up. “S...stop, what are you...” he couldn't finish before coughing, but she knew the last word was 'doing'.

“Getting you to your match,” she responded, much to his surprise. “You're probably not going to just sit back and watch.”

“But... but why?” he asked. “Aren't you... Wouldn't Rider..?”

“Forget about that,” she replied, “and focus on what's in front of you. That's... my families philosophy. It's what _he_ lived by.”

Timey blinked in surprise. “You mean... You know that I'm... I'm not...”

“Yeah. You're not.” Who it was that he was not went unsaid, but only because it didn't need saying. “And to make up for it, you're not going in alone.”

* * *

 

In the dark recesses of Marina's lab, things were going smoothly and, thankfully, her way. The timer counted down the last five seconds before her mission was 'theoretically' complete.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Ding.

Mission finished. Time to clean up, and see the results.

Marina removed the dripper from Dedf1sh's arm, and the shades from her head. She looked... positively normal, compared to before. Her tentacles had taken the regular magenta/maroon colour Octolings were known for, and her skin had gone back to being just a darker pigment of pink, rather than that horrid blue it was before. All the machines nearby beeped away, indicating that she was 'technically' alive and with brain function, but only time will tell.

And time was something her friends sorely lacked.

A small groan escaped her patients lips, and silver eyes fluttered open slowly. Okay, looking good so far. Now for the conciousness test.

“How are you doing?” Marina asked. “Can you here me? Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Dedf1sh let out a louder groan. “Yeah, I can... I can hear you,” she muttered. “Oh Cod, I feel like a train wreck.”

“All things considered, that's a good thing to know,” Marina replied. “Considering the state you were in, any feeling at all is good to know.”

“The state I was...” Then it all came back to her. That was one of the things that sucked about coming out of a however many years long coma; the recollection of just what caused it. Dedf1sh bolted upright from her seat, the momentum taking her to the floor instantly. Another downside of her situation: muscular entropy. “Oh Cod, I...” Her voice was filled with panic and dread. “What about Kashimi? Did you at least find her?!”

So, she's more worried about someone else? This seems to be a trend. “I'm sorry, but I don't know who that is,” Marina admitted. “We were only informed that you were down there, though considering Kamabo's currently in ruins, it wouldn't be too hard to...”

“Hold on, what?” she questioned. Surprising thing to note, that her voice was doing so well for not having been used in so long. “Kamabo's... gone? How did you...”

“Not alone, I'll say that much,” Marina responded. “I'd explain more, but unfortunately, time is of the essence.”

“It's... what?”

“Long story,” Marina said, pressing a button on the remote she grabbed from the nearby table, “here's the basic summary.”

The TV on the other side of the room was switched on, showing a very lopsided battle between two groups. One group of eight Inklings, and a group half that size, comprised of... “Wait,” Dedf1sh noticed. “Are those, Octolings and Inklings... working together?”

“Things have changed a lot in the past two years,” Marina answered with a smile. “Right now, though, the smaller of those groups, friends of mine, need help.”

Dedf1sh found herself rather captivated by the events unfolding. “This is one of those Inkling Turf War sports, right? Why am I needed for it?”

“It's... all too complicated to explain now,” Marina said. “Just know that a friends fate hinges on whoever wins this overall tournament.”

“And what's this?” the announcer on TV called out. “It looks like Team Bangaichi's got some surprise last minute fighters!” (Marina: Wait, what? Dedf1sh: Guess that's not on your plan?) “Looks like we've got a mysterious Slosher user in Mark 1 Armour named Armour, and... Well, I'll be! The leader of Bangaichi has joined the battle! He's definitely looking under the weather, but I guess he just couldn't stand not being there for his team!”

“Are you kidding me?!” Marina shouted. “Freaking hell, Timey, you're sick! Why are you on the field?!”

Dedf1sh disregarded Marina's yelling, instead focusing on the male Inkling in question. He was familiar. Very familiar. He reminded her, in fact, of that hero from...

“You said you wanted me to help them, right?” she asked. “If I'm going to, I need something to help me move.”

Marina looked rather pleased with the response, though she was evidentially still bewildered by the Inklings appearance. “Don't worry, I've got that covered for you.”

Dedf1sh grinned. “Then, I need a weapon.”

* * *

 

“What do you mean 'Timey's on the field'?!” Deej shouted, dodging between ink shots.

“I mean just that,” Shades shouted back. “I don't know how I can be any more specific!”

Basic ducked behind the cover nearby. “I mean, at least he brought a friend with him,” he said. “Right?”

“We don't know anyone named 'Armour'!” they both shouted.

The familiar Super Jump indicator flashed, both next to Basic and next to Shades. The armoured Slosher user known as Armour landed next to Shades, while Timey hit the floor hard next to Basic.

“T-dog!” Deej shouted, ducking into the cover. “What the hell are you thinking? You shouldn't be here!”

“No, I...” Timey coughed, “I should be here. I can't just... let you guys carry this burden without... without me.”

Timey braced himself against the nearby wall, taking shakey aim with the Bamboozler. “Damn it, man! Can you even see clearly right now?” Shades called out. The Charger was fired, and the shot missed its target by a decent margen. “Guess that answers that. Hey, Armour guy!”

“I'm a girl,” Armour responded.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid,” Shades continued. “Scratch that. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupider.”

“But, aren't we with our backs against the wall?” Basic asked. “We kinda need as much help as we can get, right?”

“Not when he can't see farther than his own hand!” Deej yelled. “Damn it. It's bad enough that Eighter's holding the line on her own. Where the bloody hell is Marina's backup?!”

In the single most classical case of 'ask, and thou shalt receive', a medium sized hovertruck busted through the ceiling. Standing on top of the truck, to the surprise of everyone, was an Octoling dressed in... well, armour would be the proper noun, but it was really more akin to a black and maroon mech suit, with a clawed right hand that grasped a Scoped E-liter 4K. The Octoling's tentacles were rather lopsided, being longer on the right, and she sported a pair of quite noticeable silver eyes.

The E-liter was discharged four times, faster than anyone would have thought possible for the weapon, and five members of Team S4 Backup were splatted.

“Well,” Shades said in bewilderment, as the Octoling leapt to their side, “I guess that answers that.”

“This battle just keeps getting crazier!” Mesh called over the intercomm. “First the duo of Timey and Armour, and now a mysterious sniper has joined Bangaichi! It would seem the Gods of the Turf are working in their favour today!”

The Octoling adjusted her helmet (Mecha Head – HTR), before regarding the five. “What up?” she said. “DJ Dedf1sh is in the house!”

“Dedf1sh?” Shades muttered. “So, Ida managed to pull it off in time.”

“You got that right, Roomie,” she responded, giving a rather confident smile (Shades: Wait, what did you call me?). If one were to put Dedf1sh's current personality into words, it would probably be 'cheerful, confident, cat-like, and kind'. She'd definitely fit right in with this group, that's for sure.

“Glad to have ya onboard, Dedy,” Deej said, “but we've got bigger squids to fry. Think you can go and back up Eighter down in centre?”

Dedf1sh looked at Deej curiously. “Ain't you 2084? Man, you've come a ways.” Before Deej could respond, she had leapt onto the nearest elevation, and fired a shot, splatting another target. “No worries, I've got her covered. You folks just do... whatever it is you do.”

And like that, she had shot off to centre, leaving the five rather bewildered. “Is that...” Armour began. “Is that normal?”

“It's not 'abnormal' for us, I'll say that much,” Shades muttered. “Fine. Guess we'll have to work with what we've got. Deej, you and Basic take the left path. Armour, you're on Timey duty. Timey, you're backlining, and I'll take the right path. As of now,” she tightened the grip she had on the Bloblobber, “our counterattack begins!”

* * *

 

By some miraculous stroke of luck and skill, Eighter had managed to go the past four minutes without getting splatted once.

The plus side of that; striking fear into the hearts of your foes, by giving them the idea that you are untouchable (but not really).

The down side, though? The clothing that Inklings make doesn't exactly hold up well. It wasn't something that was seen too often, mostly due to the fact that no one actually goes so long taking damage without getting splatted, but then again, Eighter wasn't like others.

Considering Eighter was use to going whole matches without splatting, she made it her business to always have an extra layer of clothing on, just in case the Navy Eminence Jacket she had grown so fond of finally bit the dust, and thus causing a classic wardrobe malfunction.

It was matches and days like this she was glad she used the Navy King Tank as an undershirt. It may only have one ability slot, but it's better than nothing.

Also, thankfully, the sudden memory surges had stopped, so she could focus on her 1v4 match.

If Kamabo and the Deep Sea Metro (particularly Girl Power Station) had taught her anything, it was how to survive against impossible odds.

Ducking out from her cover, she had to immediately dodge farther than she would have wished, as the 'leader' of the enemy team, a young man named Aviators, had managed to close the distance rather quickly, laying down fire with his L-3 Nozzlenose. Unlike any other shooter, the Nozzlenose line was exclusively semi-automatic in firing, going in bursts of three. You can tell a good Nozzlenose main from a bad one, simply by how fast they shot, and where they aimed. And this guy, with his quick bursts aimed at her, and slower ones to kite her, was good. Heck, he put the word 'good' to shame. With this guy all up in her business, it was hard to get a charge in, even with her dodging.

“Those are some pretty slick moves you've got,” Aviators spoke. “Must've trained a lot to get to this point.”

“Can't say for certain about 'training',” Eighter replied, “but it's more that I have a cause worth giving everything for.”

“That leader of yours, right?” he guessed. “That's good. It means that if we do lose, we don't have to feel too bad about it.”

“I think you mean 'when',” Eighter shot back, finally unloading a charge from the Splatling. “What do people like you even need a wish for?”

“To keep out of the hands of the unscrupulous,” came the rather unexpected response. “Most people would wish for something selfish, like money or fame, perhaps only for themselves, if they're particularly bad. Some people, like Rider, would use it to rob someone of their freedom. To be honest, the whole thing stinks to me.”

“Quite the reasonable guy, you are,” Eighter muttered.

“Well, I try,” he responded, lobbing a Splat Bomb. “Don't get me wrong, though. I miss Goggles as much as the next guy. But this? This ain't it.”

Eighter gritted her teeth as she shot the bomb out of the air. “Then if you'd be so neighbourly,” she said, “as to make like a bird and flock off already!” It was rather rare for Eighter to show this much irritation to anyone not actively antagonising her, but considering she was down her favourite jacket, Aviators didn't take it too personally.

What he did take personally, though, was the sudden Charger shot he took to the face. That tended to hurt a bit. Eighter looked around, rather bewildered. “Shame, that,” a voice she did not recognise spoke. “He seemed a decent fellow.”

Standing on top of the nearby ledge was an Octoling she only vaguely recognised, dressed in a rather spiffy mech suit. “Are you... Dedf1sh?” Eighter asked.

“Got that right,” she responded, “but please, just call me Ahato. Don't even know how you folks are managing to pronounce my stage name.” Oh yeah, Eighter was going to like this girl. “So, you Eighter, then? Hero boy, Roomie, and 2084 told me about you.” Dropping down from her perch, Dedf1sh/Ahato took a good look at Eighter's appearance... and froze momentarily. “Wait, ain't you...”

Curious about this sudden reaction, Eighter looked her new ally up and down... and immediately felt like she knew her. Slightly dark complexion, tentacles combed more to her right, those silver eyes she could just get lost in -where the heck did that come from? In fact, hadn't she seen this girl before? Almost like a memory she couldn't quite reach. What about that girl she was think of before? Didn't she have... No good. The memory escaped her. “Okay, we'll have to put a bookmark on this,” Eighter decided. “Right now, we've a match to win.”

Dedf1sh forced a confident grin, though a hint of bemused sorrow persisted in her eyes. “Then lead the way, little gunner.”

* * *

 

“Now this is the sort of thing we expect from the Square Jokers Cup!” Mesh spoke into the microphone. “A battle that goes from lopsided on one end, immediately jumping to favouring the other! A true battle of absolute chaos! With just under two minutes left, this could very well be anyones game!”

The mic was switched off, and Mesh let out a sigh of exhaustion. “This job is going to be the death of me,” she muttered, rubbing her throat. “How the heck dose Off the Hook do it so well? Even the Squid Sisters needed a break every few days, but those two seem to go without end. At least, until this tournament.” She flicked across the screen of her phone, showing one of the participating teams, listed as Team Idol-lescense. The team, as befitting of its name, was comprised of Callie, Marie, Pearl, and Marina. “I really wonder just what's going on lately,” she said. “First that incident at Blackbelly with Rider and Bangaichi, then this tournament with a wish as a prize. And now, we've got societies biggest idols participating for said wish. Really makes me wonder what the world's coming to.”

* * *

 

“And that's the game!” came the shouted with the buzzer. “And man, what a game it was! Now, let's tally up the results!”

As Judd and Li'l Judd calculated the amount of turf inked per team, Timey found himself using the nearest wall for support. Just about every fibre of his being ached, and lord knows Octavio was going to give him an 'I told you so' when he got back.

He noticed Armour (who, let's face it, is Bobble Hat in disguise. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that out) gingerly approach him. “You holding up alright?” he asked her. “I can't imagine this was easy for you.”

“Not... too well, I suppose,” she responded, “but you're the sick one here.”

“Heh, touche,” he replied with a cough. At that moment, Shades walked up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Okay, Timey? We need to talk.” The absoluteness in her voice left him no room to argue against. “This chronic need to rush in to help others? You have got to lay off on it once in a while.”

“But I...”

“No buts!” Shades shouted, rapping him lightly on the nose. “Heck, I wouldn't have been surprised if you wound up killing yourself with this stunt. Then what would I have to tell One? Sorry your boyfriend died, he couldn't stop being a hero?” She let out a sigh, as her shades slid down enough to show the concern in her eyes. “When are you going to slow down enough to let us worry about you?”

Timey gave a dejected look. “I just... can't stand having to be so vulnerable,” he said. “I can't stand having to be on the side, when my friend are having to sort out my problems.”

“Ain't that the point of friends, though?” Dedf1sh asked, stepping into the conversation. “Seriously, you're acting like relying on others is the end of the world, or something. Besides, didn't you beat King Octavio with help from those singers and their heavenly melody?”

“Um,” Armour raised a hand. “I'm a little lost. Am I suppose to know who...”

“Shush,” Shades placed a hand over her mouth (well, the lower part of her helmet, really), “the previously brain dead one might be getting to him.”

“But, that doesn't...” Timey paused briefly, trying to find the words. “That doesn't change the fact that...”

“The path of the hero is a lonely one,” Shades finished. “Trust me, I heard plenty of that when I first signed up. Amazing, though, just how many of us are actually walking that path.”

That particular comment seemed to at least give Timey more to pause on, even as Dedf1sh and Deej made 'ooh'ing sounds. “And the results are in!” Mesh's voice called out. “With a ratio of 51.4% to 44.3%, the winners of this match are... Team Bangaichi!”

Cheers roared out from the audience. “Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!” Dedf1sh shouted, almost losing balance. “Heroes always show up at the last possible minute!”

“Technically, it was in the last three,” Basic tried to correct, “but your timing was impeccable, there's no denying that.”

The group began chatting rather amicably, as Mesh did the usual sign off, proclaiming Team Bangaichi as one of the many qualifiers for the main tournament. Timey felt a small weight get lifted from his shoulders, before the feeling of relief was exchanged with bewilderment, as Eighter had snuck up behind him, and effectively thrown him over her shoulder. “Woah! Eighter, what are you...”

“Proving a point,” she responded. “Us Octarians have an old saying: No burden is heavier than the one who bares it. So, if I'm able to bench press you, then the entirety of us can fight your fight.”

As Timey was stunned silent, Dedf1sh leaned over to Deej. “That's not actually one of our sayings, is it?” she asked.

“Nope,” he replied, “but it at least shut him up.” He gave her a light tap on the shoulder. “Come on. Let's blow this joint, and call it a day.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Carp, Turf Wars take up a lot of words. This was twelve pages of work, and it spanned all of seven minutes. Can somebody say 'Namek will blow up in five minutes'?  
> Now, though, we get into the tournament proper. And as for why Timey was suddenly sick? Well, serious emotional stress can cause drops in a persons immune system. Considering I've had my fair share of highs and lows, I can attest to that.  
> Regardless (I really like using that word, don't I?), we now have Dedf1sh (the name Ahato Mizuta coming from the HaikaraWalker, basically the Octo Expansion Artbook, with the listing Mizuta Ahato, and thusly rearranged to a more western format by me... presumably. I'm going on the assumption that the listing in the artbook is the Japanese ordering of the name) as part of the team, and a temporary (?) member in the not so mysterious Armour, who I'm not even pretending to try to hide, it's just that blatant. Also, more from Basic! And more from Eighter's past! Flashbacks can be so inopportune, can't they?  
> Anyway, I'm delaying. Tally ho! (I say that a lot, too, don't I?)


	7. A Period to Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first hurdle cleared, the time comes to flow into calmer waters.

Eighter stepped out of the apartment, taking in a deep breath of air. Today had just been absolute mayhem, but at least it was now over.

For a week, anyway, which was when the tournament proper would begin.

Like a southern wind, the strange Inkling known as Armour had departed on her own after the match, stating that “I've my own team to get to for this tournament. Even if they're on the wrong side of your battle... They're still my friends.” She understood her position, really. If anything, she was glad she valued her friends so greatly. Though admittedly, the whole 'wrong side of your battle' comment kinda gave away that she was on Rider's team.

On the topic of Rider, he was certainly amongst the crowd when the left the lobby. Deej, Dedf1sh, and Shades all made sure to flash him a choice finger when they passed. Eighter didn't, as that would have been rather impolite of her, and for the fact that she was still carrying Timey at the time (heh). She did, however, give the Inkling known as Specs her patented 'glare'. That glare, as it were, was capable of turning a Gorgon to stone.

Eighter loved her glare. It was kinda her secret weapon, in a way.

“Hero boy doing alright in there?” the voice of Dedf1sh took Eighter from her recollection. There she was, leaning against the railing, arms folded, dressed not in that admittedly cool looking suit of armour, but in a rather casual black tank top, shorts, and grey hat that really did wonders for her -admittedly short and petite- figure. Like, wow, was she short. Not short like 'absolute midget who'd get mistaken for a minor' short, but just... really not tall. During the battle, you wouldn't have thought that, with the sort of presence she had.

“He's resting right now,” Eighter responded, getting out of her strange -but not unwelcome, for some reason- fascination with her new ally, “if only because Callie's gone out of her way to tie him down to the bed.”

Dedf1sh gave a light laugh, before noticing Eighter's lack of reaction. “You weren't kidding, were you?” she asked, to which Eighter shook her head. This caused her to laugh more. “Man, that sound exactly like that hero.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Eighter muttered. “Anyway, how are you holding up? I can't imagine standing in a sound booth for upwards of two years would do wonders for your muscles.”

“Every fibre of my being feels like it's on fire, and if it weren't for the cause I had going in to that place, I'd want to die,” she responded plainly. That was... well, maybe not 'nice', but at least she had reason not to die just yet.

“If you don't mind me asking,” Eighter began, “what was this cause? It must have been important, if it meant risking -and suffering- sanitisation.”

Now, Eighter wouldn't call herself 'well versed' when it came to people, but she was quite familiar with the idea of 'masks'. She wasn't quite skilled enough to be able to tell what a person was hiding, based on their mask, but she did know when one was one, and when it slips ever so briefly. So, that slight glint of sorrow in her eyes? That was a sure sign of something.

“Well, it's probably best I talk to at least one person about it,” she admitted, “but can we go somewhere else? The inbetween of apartments... it's not the most comfortable place to chat.”

“Well, I do have one place in mind,” Eighter replied, “but it's a bit of a trip.”

* * *

  


Marie tossed her phone to the other side of the couch, sighing in annoyance. The screen had read '15 missed calls', and she was really, _really_ , not in the mood to deal with the callers shit.

The caller, you might ask? Her manager. To call him an emotionally manipulative, two-faced, egotistical sack of shark droppings would be an insult to emotionally manipulative, two-faced, egotistical sacks of shark droppings. Even when she had to use her vacation days in order to search for Callie, this emotionally ect ect had the audacity to keep calling her at atrocious hours of the night, in order to get her to come in for filming. It's like, what the hell? She's (supposively) trying to relax. Could ya lay off a bit?

Regardless, with the fact that she, Callie, and Pearl, were busy taking care of their round in the preliminaries (what, with Marina off making sure Dedf1sh was on their side), the guy had the audacity to make ten of those calls in the span of those seven minutes. Granted, the match was being broadcast, so he probably saw it, and was planning to chew her out for 'partaking in such plebian sports'. You know, like an asshole.

Yeah. Marie did not like her current manager. He wasn't helped by the fact that he was one of the many people behind the 'Callie vs Marie' Splat Fest from two years ago. Generally speaking, Marie enjoys Splat Fests, doubly so now that she doesn't have to host them, but that particular one... Oh cod, that particular Splat Fest. To say it was the beginning of the end would be only a little bit exaggerating.

They had promised not to let anything get between them, and for the most part, nothing did. But then, Marie got enrolled for TV programs, and Callie began starring in movies and appearing on magazines. To the rest of the world, they had just moved on to bigger things, but to them, the industry was tearing them apart. Heck, there was even this story in those trashy tabloid magazines that said they'd had a big fight before breaking up.The only reason she was able to comfortably go along with it all was because she knew Callie at least had Timey.

And of course, the day Callie drops off the face of the map is one of the few days she was going to see her. If Marie had it her way, there never would have been a split. Only ever her and Callie, singing for the world.

She has got to stop thinking about this. What ifs are what'll kill a person.

Marie laid back on the couch. Sadly, most of the things she could think about as distractions tied back into this current situation. Thankfully, the first thing her mind drifted to was her first official meetings with Agents Three and Four, separate events though they may be.

When she first met Timey, she originally thought he was just some bumbling fool, star struck fan, who happened to be a good shot when he put his mind to it. At the time, Callie had commented that she 'thought he was kinda cute', which... okay, she wasn't entirely wrong, but she had been gossiping to the wrong girl about that sort of thing. Marie was not one for cute boys; she much preferred the other side of the hetero-homo spectrum.

Regardless, one of the many things she noticed about Timey while watching him on missions was that he seemed to not splat many Octolings. It definitely wasn't a case of bad accuracy, as even back then, she had seen him shoot a Splat Bomb out of the air without even looking at it. She recalled pulling him up on it, giving him the classic 'us or them' speech.

She had expected him to defend himself in anger at the time, saying something like 'I'm doing the best I can, lay off me'. Instead, he just looked sad, and openly admitted he was rather hesitant about splatting the Octolings, because 'aren't they just like us?'. Back then, Marie had fumed at him, claiming he wasn't taking the job seriously, and that they should just get another Agent Three in.

Then, the 'hospital incident', as it had come to be known as, happened, and she really saw what he could do. The simple fact that he managed to bend steel by headbutting it, Kraken or no, was enough to instantly change her tune about him.

The fact that he went tentacle to tentacle with Octavio definitely gave him a few more points.

In contrast, her first meeting with Shades gave her the complete opposite impression. Where Timey had been compassionate and hesitant, Shades had been cold and ruthless. Where Timey continued to smile, Shades continued to frown. Whenever Timey had cause to drop his smile, she came to know immediately that somebody was about to get hurt.

Whenever she saw Shades smile, though, it was like a light was turned on somewhere in the dark.

Her phone buzzed once more, dragging her from memory lane. Slightly hesitantly, she picked it up, and checked the message.

It was from Callie -thank cod-. It was a picture she had taken of Timey, looking equal parts bemused, miffed, and amused, with his legs bound.

If he were to ask, Marie promised to tell him that she did not, in fact, break out in a hysterical laugh at the sight of the great hero, defeater of Octarians, bound up to a bed solely so he could drink his soup without moving.

She also promised that she didn't hear Shades, whom was only a room over from her, break out in laughter as well, considering it was posted to the group chat.

The only ones who didn't promise such a thing were Pearl and Octavio, whom outright posted that they found it funny.

Shades walked into the room, rubbing the tears from her eyes. “Oh cod, I needed that,” she muttered. “With how down everyone's been, lord knows we needed a good laugh.”

“Right there with you, Four,” Marie replied, stealing a glance her way. There it was; that smile that had managed to captivate her.

Shades got a quick glance at Marie's phone, spotting the notification of several missed calls. “You're manager?” she asked, expression returning to neutral.

Well, there went that mood, Marie supposed. “Yeah, still being a pain,” she responded. “Makes me wish it were so easy to switch managers, but I'm unfortunately stuck with this ass.”

Shades took a seat next to her. “Surely there's something that can be done about him?”

“Wish there was,” Marie sighed. “All I can do for the moment is tough him out.” She took a side-long glance at Shades. “Scoot over here a bit, would you?” she asked, patting the cushions next to her.

A faint blush crept on to Shades' face, though mostly covered by her glasses. She felt like she might know where this was going, but couldn't be too sure. Slowly, she did as asked.

Three seconds, and suddenly Shades was caught in a tight hug, on her back, with Marie on top of her.

Some times, it was nice to be right, even if the steps leading up to it were a little unnecessary.

“You know,” Shades managed to squeak out, “you could've just said you wanted a hug.”

“And miss out on your flustered expressions?” Marie responded, removing Shades' glasses. “Besides, straight-forward is more Callie's thing.”

Shades' hand instinctively moved to cover her face. “But... is this really needed? Removing my glasses, I mean.”

“And miss out on your eyes? Not a chance.”

Shades' blush intensified ten-fold. She was not use to people looking her directly in the eyes outside of work, where she was -in her opinion- at her worst. “But, you know I'm...”

“You're really not, you know,” Marie cut her off. “I've been watching you all this time, and you know something? You're really not as bad as you think.”

Shades hesitated somewhat. “But, without my glasses, I'm...”

“I swear, you're as bad as Timey at times,” Marie muttered. “You're not racist without the glasses, Shades, you're just shy. And quite honestly? I like that shy part of you.”

Shades stumbled around her words. This was what Marie was like when it was just them; teasing, yet somewhat flirty at the same time. It was... nice, to say the least.

Their relationship was... not exactly common knowledge, outside of the Splatoon. Then again, neither was Callie and Timey, but they had the confidence to at least allude to the fact. Shades and Marie didn't, on account of two factors: First was the fact that Marie's current contract prohibited it -because apparently that's a thing-. Second was the fact that Marie was arguable the more popular of the Squid Sisters, and apparently some people would not be happy about her being 'accounted for' -which fell into why the first point was a thing-.

Timey and Callie at least had the tact to keep their mouths shut about it, even if Callie really, _really_ wanted to pull off a double date.

“Honestly, you're not fair at times,” Shades muttered. “You're so... good at that.”

“Hmm?” Marie questioned with a sly smile. “And what thing is that?”

“That... flirty thing,” she said. “You know that I... don't handle praise well.”

She was right. Even during the 'Search for Callie' incident (as they had taken to calling it), Shades was known to bulk under nothing but praise. After the first few missions, Marie decided to keep the praising for after any given job was done, but damn if she didn't find it absolutely adorable that the stoic, somewhat cold and calculating agent, got absolutely flustered under the slightest praise. Marie did kind of like the fact that she knew her only weakness.

“Then perhaps,” Marie whispered, “we should work on that, no?”

And just like that, Shades was out like a light. It was actually amazing how easy it was for Marie to do that to her. Marie let off a small giggle, snuggling closer to Shades. “Maybe next time, then.”

* * *

  


Inkopolis port was, by far, Eighter's favourite place to be. The salty air, the long horizon, the clear skies; all of it reminded her of just how free she was. And now, she was sharing that feeling with another.

She took a small glance at Dedf1sh -Ahato, she really needs to remember that-, whom is looking out at the soon to be setting sun, a mystifying look on her face.

Though, to be fair, she was looking more at the giant statue that stood broken in the bay.

“That was actually Kamabo's big plan,” Eighter explained. “Their entire facility was held within that statue, and that cannon from its mouth? That was going to end all life on the planet.”

“You kidding?” Ahato shouted. “But, it looks so broken. What happened to it?”

Eighter gave a small smile. “Simple: I happened. A combined effort between myself, Pearl, and Marina, and we put Tartar where he belonged. There were a few moments we almost lost, but we pulled it off.”

“Cod, you ain't kidding,” Ahato muttered. “And here I was, worried that I'd have to go against that damn phone again to find her.”

“Why don't you tell me about her, then?” Eighter asked. “At the moment, I only know she's important.”

“'Important' doesn't even begin to cover it,” came the sombre reply. “She... was originally a subordinate of mine. I commanded the 8th division strike force back in the Octarian military, and had many soldiers to care for. There was... something different about her, though. Generally speaking, she was just another face in the ranks, but... I don't know, there was just something magnetic about her. She was skilled, sure, but only as much as any elite. Had that fear of Auto Bombs, just like the rest of 'em, too.”

“Never understood that one, honestly.”

“Really?” Ahato raised a brow. “You never had an absolute break down when one of those things walked up to you?”

“Can't say for certain,” Eighter said with a shrug. “Don't have any memories of it.”

“Ah, right,” Ahato muttered, rubbing the back of her head. “Well, story for another day, that one. Anyway, after the Heavenly Melody incident, quite a bit changed in all of us.”

“The song was etched on to our souls,” Eighter recited from memory. “That's what Captain Cuttlefish kept saying when I met him.”

Ahato gave a slight laugh. “Well, it ain't wrong. Although, she changed quite a bit more than others, I reckon. After all, the Squid Sisters weren't the only ones making waves that day.”

A memory flashed before Eighter's eyes. _“Would you stop trying to emulate that damn squid, already?!”_ “The one who fought Octavio,” she muttered her response. “You're talking about him, aren't you?”

“You know it,” she replied. “By the by, that leader of yours, is he...”

“The same guy.”

“Marina said as much, but needed the confirmation,” she chuckled. “Of course it'd be the same guy. Only that hero would be reckless enough to go onto the field sick.”

“On the surface, we call that 'stupid'.” Eighter responded.

“Oh? So you're a part of this 'we', then?”

“Just because you were my superior officer in the military, doesn't mean you're more knowledgeable about surface culture,” Eighter said. “No matter how you look at it, Timey is, without question, an idiot.”

There was the briefest of pauses, before both girls broke out in laughter. “Would you look at us?” Ahato muttered. “Barely known each other for a day, yet it already feels like a lifetime.”

“Yes. It is rather nostalgic, in a way.”

There was a brief pause, during which Ahato's smile faded. “I lost her... because she wanted to keep me from getting caught by Kamabo,” she said sombrely. “While we were leaving Octarian society, we got ambushed, and she...” there was a slight sniffle, “she tried to hold them off, while I escaped. I tried to tell her it was a bad idea, but... but she wouldn't listen.” The cracking in her voice became more and more apparent. “You know, after the Melody, she was... brighter. It was like we could have actual, pointless conversations, unlike before. When I lost her, I... I started to hate that kid, for the impression he left on her. I went back, hoping to find at least some trace of her, and... and you know what I found?”

“ _Kashimi! Can you hear me?!” Ahato called out into the decrepit halls. “Please, answer me!”_

_The sound of footsteps, not her own, echoed dully and robotic-ally in response._

“Kamabo had taken control of her.” And then, the dam holding her tears finally broke. “They had this... this parasite on her back. Made her and I fight. I just... I couldn't attack her. And that...” there was a small sniffle. “That was how I ended up being... changed into that... that thing.” During the time she was talking, Eighter noticed that Ahato had started scratching the area around her left wrist. “When I was down there, I saw... so many Octolings with numbered wristbands. I was only really aware for a while, until... until that... _thing._ ” There really wasn't any need to elaborate more on 'thing'. After all, for Kamabo, 'thing' -or rather, Thang- was code for 'chuck them in a blender'. “I... I couldn't... do anything to help her... All I could do was... leave a memento in that damn locker.”

Okay, that caught Eighter's attention -though not to say she wasn't already paying rapt attention already-. “A memento?”

“Yeah, it was...” Ahato wiped her eyes briefly, “it was the one thing she ever gave me as a gift. She called it 'proof that I am more than just a subordinate'. It was a hairpin of sorts; gold, as styled after takoyaki.”

Something in the back of Eighter's mind ground to a halt. So many implications were being formed, as she really wasn't sure how she felt about half of them. Cuttlefish had said that she and Timey had fought before ending up in the Metro, so it was entirely possible that, just as she had fought a possessed Timey on the way out, he had fought a possessed her on the way in.

“I'm not 100% sure what number she was given,” Ahato continued, “but I've a feeling it was the one before mine.”

Eighter managed to get a brief glance at the wrist Ahato had been scratching. A number had been carved into her flesh there.

“Damn bastards didn't even give me the privilege of a wristband,” she said, “just carved it right into me.”

Eighter managed a closer look, yet could only make out that the number was in the 10000 area.

She really, _really_ , wasn't sure how she felt about the coming possibility. “You're number,” Eighter muttered out, fiddling with two related trinkets in her pocket, “what was it?”

“Think you might have a clue?” Ahato asked, removing the hand that covered the scar. “It'll be like finding a needle in a coral stack, but I'll take any chance I can get.” She looked at the number, with bitterness and hope in her eyes. “They made me... applicant number 10009.”

With slight hesitation, Eighter drew forth the two items she had in her pockets; the golden hairpin, and the wristband Kamabo had slapped on her. She wasn't entirely sure what she had wanted from looking at them. Did she really get confirmation that she was, in fact, the person Ahato loved? Or did she was to know if she was her own person, unrelated? Regardless, as he could vividly remember, the number on her band was 10008.

“You alright over there?” Ahato asked. “You've gone awfully quiet.” She noticed the items in Eighter's hand, and her mouth immediately went agape. “That's... how did you get that?”

“Locker number eight,” came her response. “But that's... not all.”

“What do you...” she paused when she saw the band, and stumbled over her words when she read the number on it. “Bu... wha... Does that mean..?”

“I... I think it might,” Eighter hesitated. “I don't... know what to...”

Eighter was cut off by Ahato grabbing her free hand, and checking all up her arm, taking note of every scar she saw. Before long, the search reached her back, where Ahato took note of a particular, teal-coloured mark. “It's... really you...” Ahato choaked out, her hand running along a particular set of letters that had been both branded and carved into her back, just below the mark.

Eighter recalled that scar, as it was one of many she did not know from whence it came.

_Four Months ago._

“ _Okay, that should about do it for now,” Marina said, putting away a tub of disinfectant cream._

“ _You have my thanks, chief engineer Ida,” Eighter responded, readjusting her new tank top. It was her first day on the surface, and here she was, having a medical check up._

_Marina gave a slight giggle. “You can just call me by name, you know.”_

“ _Reena, you should know old habits die hard,” Pearl interjected. “Still, some of those scars are a bit odd, don't you think? Like this one,” she placed a finger down near the small of Eighter's back. “What even is it? It looks like letters.”_

“ _Let me have a look.” Marina leant closer. “Ah, yes. I know what that is. It was a sort of prank that went around the new recruits a while back. A bunch of lieutenants said that if you branded your commanders initials onto your body, then you'll never lose a battle.”_

“ _And people freaking bought that?” Pearl asked, looking to hold back laughter._

“ _Evidentally,” Eighter replied, “if I'm anything to go by.”_

“ _Still, I wonder who's name it is,” Marina wondered, paying no mind to Pearl's laughing. “I can't say I recognise 'AMxK'.”_

“ _Just another mystery, I guess,” Eighter surmised._

“AM... Ahato Mizuta,” Eighter muttered. “Then, what is...”

“After the Melody,” Ahato continued, “you went and carved the 'xK' into your back with a knife. It was... It was so messy, I...” The tiniest of sobs escaped her lips. “You said it was... to prove to the world we were inseparable... I...”

Eighter turned around to face her, and... Oh, wow, she's a teary mess. If 'crying' was how Eighter would describe her moments ago, then this was on a whole other level.

“It's... it's really you...” She brushed a hand against Eighter's cheek, and Eighter felt herself lean into it almost instinctively. It was... strange. Warm, even. “I... I don't know what to say... Where do I even begin?”

There was a brief, sombre silence, before... “My name,” Eighter muttered quietly, placing her hand over Ahato's. “I'd... like to hear my name.”

Ahato gave a small, tearful smile. Then, she uttered a single name, loud enough for Eighter to hear, but quiet enough that not even the wind would be needed to cover it. “Kashimi.”

A strange feeling fluttered from her chest. It wasn't the sort of 'flipped switch' she was expecting, but it was something akin to the outline of a puzzle finally coming into view. “Once more...” she found herself muttering, as her own hand found its place upon Ahato's. “Please, say it one more time.”

Hope and joy twinkled in Ahato's eyes, as she said the name once more. “Kashimi.”

It was the way she said it that made her heart flutter so. That... longing, adoration, companionship... that Love. Yes, it was love so great, it had to be capitalised.

Now, Eighter was no stranger to love. Far from it, considering she was friends with some of the nicest cephalopods this side of the ocean. This, though, was something else entirely. A person could very easily get addicted to this feeling.

Eighter was now fairly certain she, too, was crying. “Yes,” she muttered quietly. “I'm... Kashimi. It feels so... right.”

The was a small, rather joyous sound from Ahato, as she pulled the amnesiac into a tight hug.

It may not have been a complete recovery. It may not be the answer to all the missing pieces. But damn it, they'll be taking this win.

* * *

  


In a small part of Inkopolis Square, just outside Crusty Sean's food truck, the unlikely duo of Deej and Basic sat and chatted rather amicably. They've only really known each other for less than 24 hours, yet it really did feel like they'd known each other for a life time. Some friendships just be like that.

“So then I said: Read it? I heard you ruined it!” Deej said between laughs.

Basic gave a laugh of his own. “Mr Deej, that's gross,” he said. “Absolutely funny, but gross.”

“Hey, what's life without a few weirdo's with Squee-G fetishes? Laughter's good for the soul, after all.” He took a deep breath, settling out of his laughter. “You know, if you came up to me two years ago, and told me that your sister was one of my people, I'd've probably shot you. I mean, an Octoling deserting before the Inkantation wasn't unheard of, but for them to get adopted by a family of Inklings? If I hadn't met the people I met, I'd have called whale on that.”

“If I told myself two years ago that my own sister was an Octoling, I would have laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. After all, from our perspective, Octarians are extinct. I'm sure that most people my age would react warmly to the idea that the Octolings are living peacefully among us, though.”

“Really hope so,” Deej muttered. “You can't imagine how annoying it is to have to explain that my hairstyle is just a genetic thing to people all the time.”

“I don't think I want to,” Basic replied. “Imagine, I mean.” His eyes shifted to the side slightly. “By the way, have you noticed that...”

“We're being watched?” Deej finished. “And not in the 'we're kinda famous' sense? Yeah. I've been noticing it for a while, now.”

“What should we do, then?”

“Not much we can do,” he answered. “At least, not without making a scene.”

Basic swallowed nervously as he witnessed a fraction of what made Deej the head of the Octarian intelligence division. “Can you... at least tell who it is?”

“I'm counting at least six people, maybe more,” Deej said, as he tented his hands. “I estimate our watchers are: the pink Inkling in the Aloha shirt using flirting as a cover, the orange dude in the Inkling parka with his head in a tactics manual, Mr cyan over there in the gas mask, Rider and Specs -who think they're being so damn stealthy around that corner by the shirt shop-, and the sniper in the Skull Bandanna standing atop Ammo Knights. Quite the onlookers, I must say.”

“Wait, but that means...” Basic muttered. “That means that not only are Team Sunlight-Yellow-Green watching us, but so are the S4.”

“Wait, for eel?” Deej barely managed to keep from shouting. “If the S4 have us in their sights... We're really in for it, huh?”

“And that's only two of the three teams we need to worry about,” Basic added, tapping away at his phone.

“So you're gonna stick with us? Also, three?”

“Well, I figured since I'm neck deep in this, I might as well see it through,” he replied, “and yes, I did say three. There's a small group of four we might want to keep an eye on.” He handed the phone over to Deej. “Part of the reason they stand out is because they're working with a standard four-person team, among other reasons.”

Deej took a look at the team in question. “Team Idol-lescence? Strange name, but okay.” The moment he noticed just who was on the team, his expression became one best described as 'surprisingly unsurprised'. “I thought Ida pulled an all-nighter just so we could have Dedf1sh on our team. How the heck was she able to do all that, and take part in a Turf War?”

“Ida? Do you mean Marina?” Basic asked. “She was the one who sent us Miss Dedf1sh?”

“Sent us? Unless someone tells me otherwise, I'm pretty sure she was the one driving the hover truck that dropped her off.” Deej handed the phone back. “I was passingly familiar with her back in Cephelon HQ, but these days, I know her through Eighter.”

Basic looked at the Octoling in surprised confusion. “You're telling me, that Miss Eighter is personally acquainted with Off the Hook.”

“Oh, that's nothing,” Deej chuckled. “Just a few days ago, I learned that Shades and Timey are both dating the freaking Squid Sisters.”

Basic's mouth basically (heh) hit the floor. “Wait, seriously?” he asked. “Are we talking polygamy? Harem? Individually? Spill the beans, Deej!”

“Wow, you're fired up all of a sudden,” Deej commented. “I'm pretty sure it's just a one-on-one thing with them; no harems going on there, I think. You're certainly passionate about it, though.”

Basic gawked for a brief moment, before dropping back into his chair, embarrassed. “Sorry, I'm just... bit of a Squid Sisters fan. Even when they broke up, and fell out of my generations common thought, I...”

“Hey, I get ya,” Deej interrupted, “I'm a big fan of them, too. Heck, you'd be hard pressed to find an Octoling who wasn't. But, what's this about them breaking up? I heard about them going off on their solo careers, but when I met them a few days ago, and they seemed more interested in being with each other and the others than their solo careers.”

“Really? But it was all over the news two years ago that they had a falling out after the last Splat Fest in the plaza.”

That... did not add up to the Octoling. Callie and Marie were as thick and thieves, yet they supposedly had a falling out? Something's just not quite clicking with this scenario. “Basic, my boy,” Deej spoke, “I think we've a mystery on our hands.”

“A mystery? Are you sure?”

“Yes... No, not a mystery.” He rose from his seat, fist clenched before him. “This, is a scandal! A scandal for the ages! Come, my young squire! We've much to investigate!”

“What, right now?” Basic stuttered out, as Deej dragged him to his feet. “But the tournament...”

“Is next week, we have time,” Deej shrugged off. “Think about it; the true, mysterious reason the Squid Sisters went their own way! Why would the subject say one thing, yet the media say another? It's the Cod damn scoop of the century, and we're just the right 'pods for the job!”

“Wait, we are?”

“Just look at us! You're a plain looking guy, who wouldn't draw any attention, and I'm former head of Octarian Intelligence. It's perfect! We're the modern day Squidlock Holmes and John Octson!”

“Am... Am I Octson?”

“Well, someone has to be, and I've got the investigative mind between the two of us,” Deej placed an arm around his new companions shoulder. “Now, we must set off! Unto the greater truth!”

As Deej walked off with the confidence of someone leading a caravan through a mountain range he grew up in, Basic held his bewildered look. A look that was, in fact, shared by the six spying on them.

“I... really don't know what I've gotten myself into,” Basic muttered, mustering a smile, “but I kinda like it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, mysteries deepen, bonds are found and rekindled, and more popculture is implemented into Inkopolis culture. What fun.  
> Next time: The adventures of Squidlock Deej and Basic Octson! Plus others.


	8. The Game is Afoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good friend helps you through the worst of times. A great friend grabs the worst times by the throat and beats it into submission.

Three days had passed since the preliminaries, and Timey had finally been able to step out of his room feeling well rested. He'd have said 'rested', rather than 'well rested', but he was kinda afraid that would imply sleeping problems in general.

...Okay, maybe he had been a bit of an insomniac over the past year. Problems serious enough that he kinda had to rely on sleeping pills some nights, but that's besides the point. (It was exactly the point, but he'd rather not go into that.)

Stepping into the living area of his apartment, he was (thankfully, he might add) greeted by the sight of Callie tolling away in the kitchen. While he usually wasn't one to have other people use the kitchen (considered it being a bad host), given current situations, he wouldn't protest it.

Plus, she was making pancakes. What sort of twisted sociopath would turn down pancakes, yet alone pancakes made by their own girlfriend? Timey may be largely self-sacrificial, but he wasn't a complete idiot. That last point might still have some level of contention, though.

Taking a sidewards glance, Callie smiled when she noticed him. “Finally up, are you?” she asked playfully. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I must say,” he replied. “Although, I do think I have a bit of rope burn around the ankle. Did you really have to use a constrictor knot?”

“It kept you in the bed, didn't it?”

“It was a bit excessive, I think.” Timey took a seat at the table. “Has anything new happened in the world? Or are we just suppose to wait for the apocalypse of a tournament?”

Callie mused for a moment, as she set two stacks of pancakes on the table. “There were a few things happening,” she said. “We managed to figure out more about Eighter's past, for one thing. Turns out she was not only Ahato's -Dedf1sh- subordinate, she was also her girlfriend.”

“Wow, it _is_ a small world,” Timey commented, taking a bite of his stack. “Does make me wonder what Octavio's investment in all that is.”

“Right? Anyway, the only other thing of interest is the fact that apparently, Deej and Basic are trying to solve some sort of mystery.”

“Solving mysteries? What brought that on?”

“They didn't say,” Callie replied, having... wait, when did she finish her stack? There were, like, seven pancakes on her plate, and she finished them all in the span of this rather short conversation? “Other than that, there's nothing else to report on from the others. Although, it seems Marie's manager is starting to pester her.”

“Khan Sharkfin?” Timey spoke, his voice carrying a rather distinct amount of distaste in it. “Never was able to trust that guy. There's just something... I want to say 'fishy', but that's a bit on the nose.”

“Yeah, but also right,” Callie added. Khan Sharkfin was, simply put, an untrustworthy looking man. He looked less like a manager, and more like a cliché mobster or pimp, dressed in a purple suit, and oversaturated with gold accessories. The only real reason he got ahold of Marie's contract was because he just threw money at it. “Cod knows what I'd do to him if I wasn't held back by the law.”

“Easy there, Cal,” Timey said, reaching over to place a hand on her shoulder. “For all we know, that reaction might just be what he's fishing for.”

“I know, it's just...” Callie let out a groan of annoyance. Timey was not fond of the moments Callie needed to express groans of annoyance. “I really hope that when Deej is done with whatever he's looking in to, he can see if he won't help us help Marie.”

“I'm sure he'd agree to look into it if we asked,” Timey reassured, finishing off his stack. “Besides, knowing our luck, that's probably what he's looking into.”

Callie let out a giggle. “Yeah, you're probably right about that. So, what's the plan for today?”

Timey gave a small smile, as he drew a fashion magazine from under the table. “Well, if we're basically going up against the entire world, I thought it might be a good idea to get some upgrades done.”

* * *

  


In a nondescript back alley, by one of Inkopolis' biggest multi-media corporate buildings, Deej stood and stared at the higher floors, toying around with a fake pipe. He had changed his attire, so that it currently consisted of the Forge Octoling Parka, Punk Blacks, and the Blowfish Newsie. It was, in his opinion, the closest he could get to a certain detectives look.

“It has taken us long and far, but we've finally tracked you down, Khan Sharkfin,” he muttered to himself. “Everything just seems too convenient with you, doesn't it? The Squid Sisters have a 'breakup', where you just so happen to swoop in and give the 'most popular' one a new job by buying her contract. Something that, by all accounts, should not be possible.” He held the pipe upside down, tapping on the underside as if to empty its contents. It never had anything in it to begin with. “The Squid Sisters are a joint force; you can't get one without the other. So how did you do it? Why did you do it? Well, that one's an elementary question, really. You did it because, by having a 'public breakup' on the advent of the Splat Fest to determine which of them is more popular among the populace, you could, in the eyes of the people, swoop in and 'rescue' them from a fate of obscurity.”

From just behind him, the trio that was Basic, Eighter, and Ahato, looked at him in bewilderment. “Is... is he still going?” Ahato asked. “He's been talking to nobody for the past 15 minutes.”

“He's really sold himself on the bit,” Basic responded. “Ever since he had the idea of investigating this thing, he's been acting out the role of Squidlock Holmes. I'll admit, though, he's quite good at it.”

“At least he's having fun with it,” Eighter commented, fiddling around with her old CQ-80. The old Kamabo device had, much to both Eighter and Ahato's chagrin, become the groups storage drive for any and all information they came across. On the subject of their attire, they had chosen to go as incognito as they could without being obvious that they were incognito. Eighter, who's previous set of clothing had been torn to ink, had started wearing the Chilly Mountain Coat, Armour Boot Replicas, and the Face visor. Basic, considering he didn't draw much attention to begin with, had only gone so far as to swap the White Headband for the Sneaky Beanie, and the Cream Basics for Shark Moccasins. Ahato, on the other hand, had no wardrobe of her own to speak of, so she had to borrow some from Eighter (lord knows she was rather... pleased with the idea). In this case, Ahato currently wore the Blue Sailor Suit, Black Trainers, and the Conductor Cap. Eighter didn't say it out loud, but that look just worked for her.

One final button press later, and a holographic map of the building was generated from the CQ-80. “Okay, we've got the map up,” Eighter muttered, as Deej finally dropped the act to look. “Looks like the building is... very poorly guarded. Sharkfin's office is on the tenth floor, and we can basically get there with ease, if we use the ventilation system.”

“Isn't that just a cliché of sorts?” Basic asked. “I mean, do people really have air conditioning that needs ducts the size of people?”

“Apparently, shark people do,” Deej said. “Besides, even if we couldn't crawl, we'd just shift forms, and slide through like that.”

“Really makes me wonder how humans managed to pull this sort of thing off,” Eighter muttered. “All those recovered movies would show that the vents were just conveniently big enough for them to crawl through.”

“Gotta love narrative convenience,” Ahato muttered. “So, what are we waiting for, a royal invitation?”

* * *

  


As it would turn out, the ventilation ducts of Khan Productions (a stupid name, in anyone's opinion) were freaking _huge_. So big, in fact, that the word had to be formatted differently whenever it was said. They weren't so big that Inklings and Octolings could walk upright in them, but it was big enough that a group of four could comfortably crouch-walk through, and slide around each other if need be.

“This is... absolutely ridiculous,” Basic muttered. “How is it that someone can be so lax on security? This place is just asking to be broken into.”

“Rather apt summary of it, really,” Deej replied. “Eighter, did the map say anything about hidden security systems, or are people in Inkopolis just that lazy?”

Eighter stuttered a little in surprise, before taking the CQ-80 back out. Deej and the others listed that stutter as 'these cramped spaces might be reminding her of the Deep Sea Metro, and she's trying to keep herself in the present'. The actual truth of it was that, in this veritable conga line of cephalopods, she was at the back, with Ahato directly in front of her. What the others thought was her trying not to think about the Metro was actually just her appreciating her current view. “Well, from the looks of both the current map, and the older blueprints,” Eighter mused, “it doesn't look like we've any traps to worry about.”

“So, if our society is so lax,” Basic spoke, “then how the hell did the Octarians lose the Great Turf War?”

“Because some idiot pulled the wrong plug from the wrong socket,” Ahato answered. “Trust me, kid, stupidity ain't exclusive to your society. Heck, I remember the stories my old man would tell me about the tentafool who pulled the plug prematurely.”

“Wait, you actually know your dad?” Deej asked, craning his neck around. “Neat. Can't say many Octolings know who their parents are.”

“Yeah, um. Let's just leave it at that,” Ahato replied. Huh. Dodging the subject. Interesting, at least in Eighter's opinion. Gonna have to put a pin in that subject for later.

“In just a few more steps, we should...” A ping eminated from the CQ-80. “Here. We should be right above Sharkfin's office.”

“Wait, so we managed to get to the tenth floor already?” Basic asked. “But we've been going in a straight line!”

“Just don't question it,” Ahato said. “Sometimes, it's best not to think about the journey, and just appreciate the destination.”

“With you on that one,” Deej agreed, taking a close look through the awfully convenient removable grating that separated them from the room. “Coast is clear, let's mosey.”

With a strong kick, the grating fell out, and the quartet dropped down like a pack of skilled ninjas. Well, three of them did. Basic, having no real military training outside of a few days of Turf War, fell flat on his rear upon landing. “Alright. Basic; you're on door duty. Everyone else, find anything that might give us some answers,” Deej gave the orders. “Keep an eye out for anything with any sort of signature on it.”

Going about their things, Eighter found herself before a rather large bookshelf, while Deej tackled a filing cabinet on the other side of the room, and Ahato took a look through the desk in the centre. The bookshelf was an indomitably tall thing, lined with books, picture frames, and miscellaneous items. All it took was a close look to tell that almost all of the books were actually fake; cardboard replicas place there to create the idea that he was an intellectual. For whatever reason, this pissed Eighter off immensely.

Each picture frame contained an image of Khan Sharkfin in some way, shape, or form. Sharkfin was a tall, plump... shark, with a very snazzy purple suit, a bottom row of golden teeth, and a large pair of sunglasses. This guy could not look more like a mobster if he tried.

Before long, her eyes fell on a framed contract. Why was there a framed contract? Who frames a contract? This just reeks of suspicious. Aiming the CQ-80's camera at it, Eighter scanned the offending document. The holographic projector pulled up a replica, and almost immediately, things felt wrong about it.

The majority of the main body seemed innocuous enough, to say the least, but immediately, the phrase 'Until you are no longer required' popped from the hologram. “Hey guys? You might want ta look at this,” she called. As the other three peeked over her shoulders, she continued to scroll. When she reached the bottom, she noticed Marie's signature, only... something wasn't quite right about it. It looked kind of pixelly to her.

“This... this is forgery,” Deej mumbled. “There's nothing legit about this thing. It's worded to look like it was merely a transfer of contract, but it's... basically trying to make anyone not in the know think she's trapped her for life.”

“So, there's actually a conspiracy going on?” Basic asked. “Part of me was hoping we were just jumping at shadows.”

“Oh, there's a lot more going on than just money-grubbing,” Ahato said, waving a pilfered flash drive. “I had a lookie at his bank records. Dunno what he's been spending so much on, but it's all going to some underground weapons manufacturer that I know for certain has ties to Kamabo. Why the heck does everything still lead back to those ass-holes?”

“I found things related to that, as well,” Deej spoke up. “This group you mentioned ain't quite connected to Kamabo; more like pillagers of their tech. I found a lot of blueprints in the cabinet. Seems Sharkfin's trying to make a line of weapons not unlike what Grizz uses.”

“Those weapons?” Eighter asked. “Powerful, sure, but their ink efficiency is abysmal. Not to mention they'd never get approved by the board.”

“So, he's using Marie to rack up a lot of cash, and spending it on illegal weaponry,” Deej surmised. “But why just Marie? Couldn't he get more revenue from having both Squid Sisters under his thumb?”

“Too much for him to manage?” Eighter suggested. “That's not to mention the fact that he'd have to strong arm the contract for both of them from their previous manager.”

“Wait a moment,” Basic muttered. “Maybe that's why the news outlets posted about such a public 'break up', then. After all, it'd be easier to pick up the scraps of the Squid Sisters if people thought there were scraps to be picked up.”

“And thus, he treads the path of least resistance,” Deej finished. “Make a name for himself as the hero who pulled the 'more popular one', the winner of the Plaza's final Splat Fest, from the slumps. Excellent thinking, Octson!”

“Oh, we're still doing that, are we?”

“Hush,” Ahato said. “So, if he was picking up supposed pieces, then is it possible he set up that particular Splat Fest?”

“Create the scenario, then swoop in with the solution,” Deej muttered. “It's quite possibly the oldest trick in the book. I'd know; I proofread the book.” No one could be sure if he was exaggerating or not. “We might just have a case here, ladies and gentleman.”

“So, our next order of business is..?” Eighter prompted.

“Scan everything we can,” Deej ordered, “and then we make for the Cuttlefish Shack, where we'll compile what we have, and see if we can't break this fishy fools fangs.”

* * *

  


Within the span of an hour and a half, Team Squidlock (as Deej had decided. It was not unanimous, but no-one cared enough to suggest an alternative) had gathered what they believed was enough evidence, and made their way back to the totally-not-unusual grating that lead to Octo Valley.

“You know, I'd heard stories about this place,” Basic muttered, being the third to come through, right after Deej and Eighter. “About how this was the Octarian's last line of defence when the Inklings finally fought back.”

“Seems someone's been doing their homework,” the voice of DJ Octavio spoke up, catching the Inkling off guard. “Yo, 4082, ya sure you should be bringing him here? Thought the whole Splatoon thing was suppose to be covert.”

“What I don't know can't hurt 'em, your majesty,” Deej shrugged.

“Plausible denyability. I like it,” Octavio said.

“Wait, so you're... King Octavio?” Basic said, as realisation dawned on him. “But... you're in a snowglobe.”

“Riveting observation, kid,” Octavio snarked. “For the record, I'm here because I lost. Twice.”

“Yeah he did,” Deej chuckled.

“Who did what now?” Ahato asked as she finally came through. “Bloody hell, I hate those things. Always so slow.”

“With ya on that one,” Deej agreed, before noticing something... off. It had gone quiet, and not in the 'where do we take this conversation' kind of way. It was more like someone had pulled a pin on a grenade, and if anyone were to draw attention to it, then it would go off.

“It's gone awkward quiet,” Ahato muttered. “Why has it gone awkward quiet?”

“Some'ing to do with our big guy,” Deej replied. “Dunno why, but his majesty's looking at ya like he's seen a ghost. Also, why are we whispering?”

Ahato's eyes suddenly went wide. “Did... you just say...” She quickly pivoted around, and looked directly into the eyes of DJ Octavio.

The silence reigned once more, only with a tinge more sombre and sorrow. It was awkward as possible, and both Deej and Eighter were prepared to spring into action if Octavio tried something untoward, king or not. At least, they were, until...

“Pops?” Ahato mumbled quietly.

Yeah. That pin mentioned before? A deaf guy could hear it drop from the other side of Inkopolis, with how shockingly silent it had gotten.

“Did... did she just say what I think she just say?” Deej barely managed to get out.

“I... think so?” Eighter replied, equally bewildered. “I'm starting to want my memories back more and more now.”

The silence held for a few seconds longer, before Octavio spoke. “Deej. Please open this thing.”

Deej complied, not out of personal obligation to the throne, but more the fact that A. he asked nicely, and B. he used his name. DJ Octavio almost never uses names.

The moment Octavio stepped out of the spherical prison, he immediately shifted forms. It was considered a rare honour to see the king in his Octoling form. Nay, it was one of the highest honours a soldier could ever get. And now, here he was, baring that form for them to see.

Octavio's form was, for lack of better words, old and worn. You could tell he was as old as Captain Cuttlefish, only his eyes weren't as 'out of his head', and his tentacles, kept in a low knot at the back, still carried most of their colour. He was tall, well built, scarred to hell and back, with his most noticeable cross shaped one on his left cheek, and dressed -surprisingly- not unlike Timey, if you changed the colour scheme and replaced the hat and glasses with an old samurai helmet.

The duo that was Ahato and Octavio stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time. From an outsiders perspective, they both looked like they wanted to tell the other a whole world of things, but didn't know where to start.

Thus, it was only appropriate that they both attempt to start at the same time, before fumbling an apology, and letting the other go first.

Hello, square one. Nice to see you again.

“Pops, I...” Ahato tried to start (Eighter: Was this suppose to be common knowledge? Deej: It's news to me!). “I'm sorry. I know you expected much from me two years ago, but... after that song, I just couldn't...”

“I know,” Octavio replied in a sombre tone. “I'm not upset that you felt the need to leave. I'm more upset that I didn't send a party to find you when you never got to Inkopolis.” (Deej: Holy squid, this is emotional. Eighter: I suddenly feel out of place. Basic: YOU feel out of place? I literally have no stake in this.) “If I'd known sooner that Kamabo got to you, I'd've created enough Octo-stomps to turn that place into a parking lot.” The largely uninvolved trio gave sounds of impressment, even though Basic didn't know what an Octo-stomp was.

“But, I left you for the sake of...” Ahato hesitated. It was rather evident that she wanted to say 'love', but held back for Octavio's sake.

“I know,” he replied again, “and you had every right to it; to her.” He cast a small glance Eighter's way. (Eighter: Oh squid, he actually knows.) “You were... ARE meant for great things, child. They just didn't involve taking over when my time came.”

A moments silence. A moments connection. A moment of pure, blissful understanding between parent and child.

Naturally, moments like this are followed by hugs. And followed by hugs, this moment was.

* * *

  


Once things had finally calmed down (it took a grand total of ten minutes), the group of five found themselves sitting around the table of the shack. No one could really tell if Octavio or Basic were the most out of place member present, but this was a team effort.

Several printed out copies of the evidence collected (don't ask how they managed to print from a CQ-80, it's a mystery to everyone) were spread out on the table.

They had all the pieces to the puzzle, and they knew what the finished picture would be. It was now just a matter of arranging.

At least, that would have been the case, until Eighter's phone buzzed.

“It's from Timey,” she said, checking the screen.

“Oh yeah? What's it say?” Deej asked casually.

“It says...” she paused briefly, as if rereading it. “Well, that's surprising, to say the least. He's challenging us to a Turf War.”

“Wait, seriously?” Deej questioned. “Why?”

“Gear testing, apparently,” Eighter replied. “He's saying he wants to be absolutely ready for next week.”

“You know, that's probably a good idea,” Basic added. “If we're going up against the best, we should have every advantage we can get.”

“Which means we should do some gear checking ourselves,” Eighter continued. She turned her attention to Octavio briefly. “Would you mind taking over this stuff, your majesty? Just while we have this match?”

“You kidding?” Octavio asked sarcastically. “This is the most anything I've done in weeks. You kids do whatever. Go... prove history wrong, if that's what it'll do.”

Ahato gave a bit of a laugh. “Ah, I love this family of ours.”

“Is that what Bangaichi is?” Basic asked. “One big, messed up family?”

“You know it, bowl cut,” Deej said, raising to his feet. “Now, let's set our kits up!”

  


“Y'all know what time it is!” Pearl's voice shouted over the intercomm (talk about deja-vu).

“This is Off the Hook, coming to you live from Humpback Pump-Track!” Marina followed up. “Today, we have yet another challenge based match. But unlike the last one we commentated, this one is almost guaranteed to not end in emotional turmoil.”

“Let's not wait any longer, and introduce our fighters!” The camera paned over to the four donning the magenta colour. “Our first team consists of two thirds of the now famous Bangaichi. Making up the impromptu Team Gaichi, is Eighter, Dedf1sh, Deej, and Basic!”

The quartet completed their basic stretches as the crowd roared in cheers. “Man, we've really got this lime light thing going for us,” Deej muttered. His attire had gone back to his usual combination of Life Vest, Rain Boots, and Headphones. If it ain't broke, and all that.

“We're just going to have to live with it,” Eighter responded. Her attire had changed the most from the morning, now consisting of the Golden Toothpick (currently held atop her ear), the White Inky Rider (because she really wanted to give Rider a particular finger), and (rather fittingly, in her opinion) the Hero Runner Replicas. What had changed the most, though, was the fact that she came equipped with the Octo Shot Replica. She said it was something to do with 'settling the score'.

“You know, I never thought the day where I'd be famous to Inklings would be in my first week,” Ahato commented. Her attire hadn't changed much since this morning, only swapping the Conductor Cap for the Studio Octophones. “Talk about living in the fast lane.”

“I'm with you on that, miss Ahato,” Basic replied. His equipment remained largely unchanged, though his Basic Tee had gotten upgraded via Seasnails (Deej footed the bill).

“Now, let's introduce their opponents!” Pearl shouted. “You know them well, but I bet no one expected these four squids to be on the same team! Comprised of 50% Bangaichi, and 50% Idol-lescense! Give it up for the slapped together Team Chronic Heroes!”

The camera panned onto the team represented by yellow, and almost immediately, Team Gaichi reacted in awe.

First, there was Callie and Marie. It wasn't a surprise that they were on the team, far from it. What was surprising, though, was the fact that they were both dressed in the full Hero Replica set, and sporting the Hero Roller and Charger, respectively.

Shades was much the same, currently garbed in the Hero Jacket and Snow Boots Replicas, and wielding the Hero Slosher on top of that. She had kept her Aviators though, because Inklings were weird about wearing the gear they're named after.

Timey, though, was looking something else entirely. Naturally, his headgear remained the same as ever, same with his weapon, the Foil Squeezer. But his clothing had been changed to an SRL Coat, and his shoes were currently the Neo Octoling Boots. It was quite the change in appearance, to say the least.

“Sheesh, that's quite the aura they've got going,” Deej muttered. “Eighter, you know him better than the rest of us. Why'd you think he's going with the Octoling Boots?”

Eighter didn't respond, save for a slight tapping with her foot against the respawn.

“Now that that's out of the way,” Pearl continued, “let's get ready to splat!”

The buzzer sounded. The music started, and both teams sprinted into the fray.

“Deej, take the left field,” Eighter barked out the orders. “Basic, right side is yours. Ahato, you've got rear support. Leave centre to me.”

* * *

  


Thirty seconds in, and Eighter found herself standing motionless in the centre of the track.

Standing across from her, back turned dramatically, was Timey. “Talk about deja vu,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“This will be what, the fourth time we've fought?” Eighter asked, leaning her head to the side to dodge a Charger shot from Marie.

“The first was two years ago, and I won,” Timey recounted, turning around as a shot whizzed past him. “The second was before the Metro, and that went unfinished. Third was leaving the Metro, and you won. Guess this is the true tie breaker.”

“Never took you for petty.”

“You'd be surprised,” Timey chuckled. “Before the current meta, I use to get rather salty about a lot of things. Still do, actually.”

“Yeah, I've heard your rants about the Sploosh-o-matic,” Eighter said. “Now, shall we dance?”

“By all means.” Timey spun around, striking an awfully familiar pose. “Let's get this party started!”

* * *

  


Basic was really, _really_ , starting to think he may have bitten off more than he could chew. This wasn't a thought of 'perhaps I should back off of this situation', by any means. Really, it was just the fact that he was only there to fill out numbers on the team. Then again, he knew this was what he was bringing when he joined.

Dodging was never really his strong point, but he made an effort to get clear of Callie's Roller swings. Inklings were mostly known for going from trend to trend, and forgetting about things that came before what was currently 'hip'. Basic (the Octolings, and Timey by extension, maybe) would thereby be considered a hipster in all but name. It was taking him a considerable amount of effort just to keep himself from geeking out over the fact that he was currently doing battle with the Squid Sisters. Callie did not have this problem to the same extent. Basic was just an artist caught up in a personal squabble, after all.

Moving back a few steps, Basic maintained constant fire from his Splattershot Jr. What the Jr lacked in power, it made up for in spread and ink efficiency.

“You're doing pretty well over there, squiddo,” Callie commented. “Give it a few months, and you might just make it to Rank X.”

In a moment of incredible flusteredness (if that's even a noun), Basic bowed politely. “Thank you for the words of encouragement, Miss Callie!” he shouted on instinct, earning a slight giggle from the idol.

“No need to be so formal, bub,” she said. “You're part of the circle, after all. That makes us friends, if you ask me.”

_'… Oh holy squid, Callie considers us friends,'_ Basic's inner thoughts screamed. “Um, if it's alright with me asking,” he began, “and this is just for confirmation on my part. But, are you and Mr Timey...”

“Yup,” Callie replied with a smile. “Also, you might want to check your feet.”

First rule of combat: don't look where your enemy tells you to look. Despite this, Basic looked down.

Yup. That's a Curling Bomb at his feet. That's a Curling Bomb that's about to go off. “Oh bugger.” Fitting last words, for a lad too polite for his own good.

Callie took a sidelong glance at the battle taking place in the middle. Those two really did know each others movements like the back of their own hands, huh?

* * *

  


The battle between Timey and Eighter was a ballet of blobs. Both fighters moved with the finesse of professional dancers who knew their roles by heart. Timey alternated between burst and auto fire with the Squeezer, while Eighter swam, jumped, and generally dodged while returning fire.

The turf coverage rotated, but the balance between magenta and yellow never shifted.

In a moment of synced thoughts, both Eighter and Timey produced and threw a Splat Bomb each. The thing most people overlook with Splat Bombs is the fact that they only start to detonate when they are on the ground. If they'd been on the ground for a while, before getting kicked into the air, then they would not explode until they'd been back on the ground for the remainder of their fuse.

The bombs flew through the air on their arcs, clashed against each other, and began to fall to the floor. With synchronised intent, the two kicked their opponents bomb to the far side of the map. The same side, as it so happens, where Deej and Shades were facing off.

The two of them were promptly splatted as a by-product of this battle.

“You're moving quite well, Eighter,” Timey spoke. “Seems all that training's been paying off.”

“This is more than just training, Timey,” Eighter responded between shots and dodges. “Ever since I got out of the Metro, I've been reliving the only memory I could retain; my battle with you two years ago. I've played that match back a grand total of 888 times. I know everything you're capable of doing.” In emphasis of her point, Eighter lobbed two Splat Bombs behind Timey, before firing several bursts to his side and attempting to close the distance between them.

“A fine strategy, to be sure,” Timey noted, “however...” It happened in the span of a single eye blink. One moment, he was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and the next, he had effectively re-materialised behind Eighter, holding her at gun point. “Just because you learned how I fought then, doesn't mean I'm the same right now.”

Despite the sudden turn of events, Eighter smirked. “Oh, I know,” she said, flipping the Octo Shot around. “I'm more than ready for that.”

A single magenta shot was let off, forcing Timey back a few steps. Despite himself, Timey returned the smirk.

This was, after all, fun for them.

* * *

  


Marie watched the exchange of shots with rapt intrigue. It wasn't often anyone got to see him giving it his all without the threat of death, after all.

Jumping from her vantage spot, she started pushing the left field, on account of Shades having been splatted moments ago. Chargers weren't usually meant for pushing the turf line forward, but considering situations, and the fact that the only other threat present on the field was Dedf1sh (Ahato, she really must remember to use her actual name), this allowed both her and Callie to focus on turfing the area.

Honestly, Marie couldn't remember the last time she just jumped into a simple Turf War without the need to promote some brand. She was pretty sure the last time was when she, Marina, and Pearl, were having to promote the Toni Kensa brand when it just came out.

At the end of the day, Marie would say she wasn't the biggest fan of the Kensa line. Too monochrome for her liking.

That aside, this has got to be one of the first times in a long while where she could just have undiluted fun.

“Marie!”

And if you look out the nearest window of your choosing, you can see the fun boarding the first train bound for 'nope-ville'.

Marie let out a sigh of aggravation. So much for her good mood. “What do you want, Sharkfin?” she shouted back to the shark-man at the front of the crowd.

In person, Khan Sharkfin was a very large individual, compared to Inklings and Jellyfish. 'Intimidating' would have been a noun to use for him, if his combination of mirror shades, purple leather (or equivalent) jacket with fur lining, and golden teeth didn't make him look like even more of a tool in person that any pictures of him did.

On the rest of the field, anyone that wasn't Timey or Eighter had their full attention now on the oncoming exchange.

Khan Sharkfin looked at Marie in displeasure. “Why on earth are you wasting your time with this trifling sport?” he shouted. “You have much better things to be doing than spending time with this riff-raff.”

“First off, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call my cousin, girlfriend, and friends 'riff-raff',” she shouted back, netting the expected gasps of surprise from both the manager and the crowd. Man, she loved getting that sort of reaction. “Secondly, I'm still using my vacation days, so what I do with my time is not your issue.”

Sharkfin looked positively fuming. If people didn't know better, they'd say he had a blow-hole. “Have you forgotten who owns your contract, girl?” Oh yeah, he was pissed. “I can make it so that you won't be able to work another day in showbiz if you don't drop this tomfoolery right this minute!”

_'Oh, carp, there was that problem,'_ Marie cursed internally. _'Come on, girl, think of something.'_

“I don't think that's in your jurisdiction, chap,” an new, posh accented, yet still familiar voice spoke up. Sharkfin had turned around to be face to face with... someone in the Forge Octarian Parka, Blowfish Newsie, and Blue Moto Boots. He also seemed to be carrying around a fake pipe.

“And just who the shellfish are you suppose to be?” Sharkfin asked.

“Me? Call me Holmes,” the man replied. “Or Squidlock, if you prefer first names. I'm a private eye, and let's just say I've got some... incriminating evidence against you, Sharkfin.”

“Bullfin! There's nothing you could have found!”

“Oh? Then what's all this I have about 'weaponry R&D'?” 'Squidlock' held a file aloft. “That's also not to mention the fact that you forged the signature on that contract you seem oh so fond of talking about.”

Sharkfin bore a look on his face that made people sniff the air in worry, if only to confirm whether or not he did in fact soil himself. 'Squidlock' gave a rather sly grin. “What's the matter, tentafool? Got too careless?”

“You... you can't prove anything!” Sharkfin shouted. “You probably illegally obtained those records?”

“A preposterous notion, I assure you,” 'Squidlock' said with a shrug. “In all my time in Inkopolis, I have only ever acted in the light of the law.” (Ahato: Only technically! Deej: Shush, friend, I'm liking where this is going.) “And might I add, chap, that you didn't argue the truth about these. You've dropped that ball like a fresh beat, you have.”

Sharkfin fumbled around with his words for a good few moments, before 'Squidlock' held a hand up to silence him. “A certain group of individuals have been given copies of these records,” he stated, “so if I might make a suggestion for you: Run.”

With the haste of someone who had just dropped a brick out of his pants, Sharkfin had fled the scene. 'Squidlock' could only chuckle at the sight. “Well, at least that's settled.” He turned his attention to the somewhat bewildered Marie. “No need for thanks or pay, young Cuttlefish,” he said with an exaggerated bow, “just doing what's right. Now, I bid you adieu.”

Like the wind, he had disappeared into the crowd. Marie was fairly certain that, when he tipped his hat, she could see a somewhat familiar cross scar on his cheek. However, that analysis was temporarily overwritten by the single thought: “What the bloody hell just happened?”

Callie came to a stop beside her cousin. “I'm really not sure,” she replied. “Anyway, you holding up alright? That can't have not been just a little nerve wracking.”

“Honestly, Cal? I've never felt more relieved in my life.” Marie paused for a moment. “Correction: I've never felt more relieving the past year I've been working with him. Can't let my hatred of him get above getting you back, can I?”

Super Jump indicator flashed, and Shades landed next to them. “Sorry I took so long,” she said hurriedly, “Eighter has Respawn Punisher on her gear.”

“Well, you just missed seeing the most satisfying verbal beat-down in recent history,” Marie noted. She also noticed, though, that Deej, Basic, and Ahato had convened by them. Evidentially, they looked to have enjoyed the show, and were ready to get back to the action. Marie gave a rather cheerful smirk. “Well, shall we jump back into the fray?”

* * *

  


To say that Timey and Eighter didn't notice what was going on on the other side of the stage would be a lie. They saw it all happen, quite clearly. It was just clashing with the fact that their battle had a little too much momentum to stop at the moment.

Presently, they had taken up the other side of the stage from the rest of their teams, they were half empty on ink, fully charged Specials, and currently keeping a grand total of six Splat Bombs, three per person, from hitting the ground. The battle had managed to move past amazing, and into the realms of improbable.

There was one minute left on the clock. Words had long since become moot. Too much happening all at once. Not enough time for witty banter.

Timey kicked Eighter's bombs over the nearby edge, and activated his Special, the Bubble Blower.

Eighter immediately realised what he was planning the moment the three bubbles were launched. His bombs were currently on a trajectory to the bubbles, and she had her back to the railing. By all accounts, there was no logical way out of this situation.

Thankfully for Eighter, she knew that sometimes the best laid plans started by kicking logic to the curb, and keeping the damn couch.

The moment before the bombs hit the bubbles, Eighter shifted forms, slipped through the railing, and activated the Inkjet as she fell to the Respawn line. An often overlooked strategy outside of Salmon Run is using the Inkjet off edge for the sake of jumping back on stage.

The bubbles burst, the Inkjet popped. Eighter soared through the air, landing behind Timey. Both were quick off the mark, aimed their weapons...

and the buzzer rang.

“That's the game, folk!” Pearl shouted.

“And what a game it was!” Marina followed up. “Even with that sudden appearance from Khan Sharkfin, you could tell these eight were having a blast.”

Timey and Eighter let out panted breaths. “So,” Timey said, “how do we want to call it? A draw, or whoever's side won the Turf War?”

“I'm leaning towards a draw, personally,” Eighter replied. “The others were the ones turfing, after all.”

“A draw it shall be, then.” Timey took a sidewards glance at the others. “You wouldn't happen to have something to do with that event earlier, would you?”

“I assure you, I have no idea how Octavio managed to get a-hold of such _clearly_ secretive documents, or why he was pretending to be the famed detective Squidlock Holmes, much like what Deej was doing earlier today.”

Ah, Timey did like the sort of lie where the person saying it knew that the one they were talking to could tell it was a lie. Especially when it's so blatantly obvious. Those were always kinda fun for him.

“And the results are it,” Marina spoke. “With the narrowest of margins - just ten points ahead, the winner of this match is... Team Chronic Heroes!”

“Figured,” Eighter muttered. “Your team had the consistent upper hand.”

“You say that like yours didn't put up a damn good fight.”

* * *

  


Lively banter filled the halls that led away from the arena. A classic case of post-match banter between team-mates and opponents. If anyone were to ask them how they felt right now, this particular group of eight would say they feel on top of the world.

The jovial mode was suddenly interrupted by a series of fast footsteps approaching them. Well, they'd think it fast only by the amount of weight going into each step. There were only half as many steps being made as a normal bipedal being would make at such a pace, which left most of the two teams confused beyond all words.

The only ones not counted to the confused number, as it were, were Callie and Timey. In Callie's case, her face lit up in recognition, as if saying 'YES'. Timey's, on the other hand, was an expression that mixed 'I know where this is going', 'Oh thank the Zapfish', and 'Oh no'. Inklings had very elastic expressions.

From around the first corner to their left -because it someone is in a hurry, they _always_ take a right hand turn at speed- hopped a 5'5'' seahorse, making a beeline towards them. The evolution of the seahorse after the age of humans was an odd one, to say the least. They kept to the standard symmetrical design that every other living creature evolved by, and they did eventually gain hands of some sort, but unlike most every species both past and present, they only had one leg. Not 'one pair of legs', but literally one leg, right down the mid line of their bodies. This was still in line with how seahorses use to look back when they lived in the ocean, but for a now land dwelling creature? Evolution be wack, yo.

The seahorse girl (at lets face it, with that sort of fluorescent red lipstick, tight fitting pant leg (singular, of course), a very floral top, and two very evident sets of mounds -one on the chest, the other on the rear (don't ask, anatomy is weird)-, this was very obviously suppose to be a female. Unless of course, this was a male seahorse that just had a taste for effeminate clothing, but then we'd be talking about an almost 6 foot chap with quite the package) caught sight of the group, and immediately leapt towards Callie, wrapping her in a massive hug. “Oh, Callie! I knew I'd find you eventually!” she shouted quite ecstatically.

Callie gave a rather pleasant laugh. “Sorry, Doryse. I'd've called sooner, but...”

“Oh, don't you worry about that, Sweetie,” Doryse said in a cooing sort of sound. “I'm just glad to see you're still in one piece.” In one very sudden, very swift motion, Timey was suddenly brought into the hug. “And you, Times New! I just knew you'd be able to pull through after what that awful Rider boy said!”

“It... it's good to see you too, Miss Doryse,” Timey managed to croak out. “Um, you're... choking me. Again.”

“Oh, don't be dramatic, Sweetheart,” Doryse replied. “It would take a few mountains being dropped on you to actually take you out.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Deej muttered. “Anyway, who's this?”

“This is Doryse Achelous,” Callie answered, “my manager. She mainly runs a pretty big fashion magazine out of the plaza.”

“The Inkopolis Walker, right?” Marie asked. “One of my favourites, to be honest.”

A sort of light shone in the back of Doryse's eyes, as she practically leapt from Timey to Marie. “Oh, I am absolutely delighted to hear that, Sweetie!”

“Doryse has actually been working to get your contract off Sharkfin for quite a while now,” Callie said. “Can't have one Squid Sister without the other, after all.”

“And after seeing that nasty man get his just deserts, I knew I had to swim by before anyone else got their fins on you,” Doryse added. “I absolutely refuse to keep you girls apart anymore! It gets rather stale when you only have two models to work together, after all.”

“Two?” Eighter questioned. “Who's the other one on your payroll?”

“One and a half, actually,” Timey croaked out, regaining his breath.

“Wait, why do you know...” Ahato paused, before a thought occurred. “It's Timey, isn't it?”

Three answers were shouted at once: Timey's big no, and Callie and Doryse's yes. Deej, in response to this, broke out in a big grin. “Oh? Could our own T-dog be holding out on us? You didn't tell us you were a model.”

“That's because I'm not!” Timey shouted, blushing quite heavily. “I... I just acted as Callie's security detail for a while, and... and these two kept roping me into things!”

“'Roping' you into things? I never!” Doryse said in faux hurt. “Have you even seen how much people love it when you appear in the magazines? You, Sweetie, are a diamond in the making!”

“Hold on, Mr Timey's been in the actual magazines?” Basic finally spoke. “Please, Miss Doryse, you must show us!”

“Oh, you know I can,” Doryse responded, pulling a tablet from... some unnaturally large pocket she had on her person. “This issue was from eight months ago.”

The issue in question was primarily focused on boys fashion, as it so happens. On the sideline, Timey gave an unheard sigh of relief that that was where they were starting. A few page flicks later, and they were finally on the page that featured their favourite leader. In this image, his tentacles were let down, he was dressed in the full Samurai set with the helmet held loosely in his left hand, with the Kensa Dynamo Roller slung over his right shoulder. The image basically shouted the idea of 'honourable victory'. “Hot damn,” Deej muttered.

“That's nothing,” Callie replied, as the group noticed the sudden look of panic on Timey's face. “Quick, show them the one from the next month!”

“You got it, Honey!” Ignoring Timey's 'Please no' statement, Doryse quickly flicked over to the next issue. It was... vastly different from the last one, focusing more on... cross dressing, of all things. There was an almost unanimous 'I like where this is going' among the readers. The page they got to featured two Inklings. One was, quite plainly, Callie, done up to look quite boyishly good looking. As for the other Inkling... If they didn't know what they were looking for, even Team Bangaichi would have missed that this 'girl' was actually Timey. Somehow, he had been prettied up so well.

Deej could barely form words for half a minute, before... “You know, this is the sort of thing that makes a guy question their sexuality.”

“What do you mean 'guy'?” Callie asked. “I saw the change in person, and even I questioned myself.”

At this time, Timey was currently balled up in a corner, in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. All the while, Eighter had taken to trying to comfort him.

He would never say this out loud, but truthfully, Timey was rather fond of those times in the studio with Callie. There was something... liberating, he believed, about standing in front of those cameras, even when it was when he was dressed in a silky dress, being saved by special agent Callie. He did have a private laugh whenever he learned about Doryse's wacky scenarios. As the commotion finally began to subside, leading to Doryse giving Marie her card, as well as a personal guarantee that she would still have a place in this industry, Timey let the back of his mind wander to what the future may hold.

He had to be ready. They all did. Not just for the fight, but also for if they lose.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I have this weird thing about my chapters going over twelve pager. This one only got to fourteen, sure, and I really shouldn't be considering that a problem, but it's just... weird.  
> No matter, I guess. We've an actual tournament to start. Tally ho~.


	9. Where the Fun Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Show the world your strength. What is there to lose by giving it your all, and having fun all the while?

Fireworks sounded off above Skipper Pavilion. Crowds had begun to gather by the upper centre area, awaiting the official start of the tourney.

“How you lot doing out there?!” the voice of Mesh sounded over the speakers, being met with quite thunderous cheers. “Today's finally the day. Allow me to be the first to official welcome the start of the Square Jokers Cup!”

This sort of thing was what Mesh loved. That feeling of second hand exhilaration that comes from watching a crowd get hyped up. Mesh was one of those people who were, unfortunately, not blessed with their fair share of skill in Turf War. She'd hate to admit it, but she couldn't hit the broad side of a barn point blank with a Sploosh-o-matic. Lord knows how down she was when she finally decided to step away from the sport for good. Close friends would describe it as 'the lowest they'd ever seen anyone go'. It was only until her sister said “You know, you're pretty good at talking the good talk. Why not try some of that?” that she gave this commentating gig a try.

The saying 'don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk' stopped applying to Mesh the moment she first stepped into that sound booth. She had a knack for trash talking and hyping up even the most mundane of things. The first match she ever really commentated... it was like a light had come back on. A fire reignited.

Okay. Reminiscing over. Back to hyping the crowd.

“I'm sure y'all already know the rules, but we'll go over them one last time, for those just joining us,” she continued. “The Jokers Cup is a no holds barred slog-fest for teams with anywhere between one and twelve people. That's right, up to three times the size of a normal team! On top of that, there's no restriction on weapons, Subs, and Specials, so one guy is allowed to basically duel wield Splattershots while tossing around every bomb imaginable. Not very practical, mind you, but he could!” A nice laughter rippled across the audience. “Right now, sixteen teams are preparing to go head-to-head for the title, and the coveted prize of one wish. Personally, I can't attest to how legit that is, but who cares? We get to see battles we wouldn't normally see!” The crowd erupted in cheers once more. “As y'all might recall, over the past week, we asked on social media what teams you want the most attention drawn towards, and here are the results!” The screen behind her flickered on. “In fourth place, we have five absolute legends of Turf War. Four longstanding gods of the game, and the monarch himself. We have Team S4+1, featuring Emperor!” Images of the five Inklings mentioned appeared on screen, to the cheers of many fans. “Now, you know it's pretty damn big if these folks are only in fourth. Next up, we have a four girl team of Inkopolis's biggest stars. You all know them. You all love them. It's team Idol-lescense, the Squid Sisters featuring Off the Hook!”

Mesh quickly took a breather, as an even louder cheer erupted. She had to admit, Inklings were _very_ easy to hype up. “It says a lot when the S4 are fourth, but I reckon it says even more when the great idols are only third,” she continued. “Our next to teams of interest, you probably already know. They've both been over the news for a good while now. One team is comprised of twelve 'pods aiming to take back the past, and the other is a team half the others size, wanting to keep their future. I don't think they need any-more hyping than that, so give a round of applause for teams Sunlight-Yellow-Green and Bangaichi!” The crowd once more erupted in cheers. This time, though, there was a somewhat clear favouritism for Team Bangaichi, with several Inklings chanting the team name. It was easy to tell where sympathy was, and it was also easy to tell which of the team names was easier to chant. After all, 'Ban-gai-chi' sounded a lot better in a chant than 'Sun-light-Ye-llow-Gre-en'. Too many syllables.

The screen changed, showing the tournament brackets. Four rounds in total, team vs team. Names flickered on the screen, where each teams entry in the brackets would be. After a moment, they settled into place. In an order of 1 through 16, with matches being 'team 1 vs team 2', Sunlight-Yellow-Green was team 1, Idol-lescense was team 8, S4+1 was team 9, and Bangaichi was team 16. Because of course it would end up like that. There wouldn't be any narrative tension if SYG (because bugger writing Sunlight-Yellow-Green every time) and Bangaichi fought any time before at least the semi-finals. Following that, the rest of the entries filled out with the remaining teams that passed the preliminaries.

These teams were: Team Retro-Cardigan in 2, Team Knights Honour in 3, Team Unseen University if 4, Team Inkfall in 5, Team SplatSquad in 6, Team FF in 7, Team Unknown in 10, Team Inkorporated in 11, Team Yami in 12, Team Arland in 13, Team Old-School Literature in 14, and finally, Team X-Blood in 15. A large ensemble of names both familiar and not.

“Now, our battles are set!” Mesh shouted. “Let's get this show on the road!”

* * *

  


Round one of the day was a match between Teams SYG and Out-Cardigan. The moment Rider set foot upon the battlefield that was Manta Maria, he failed to suppress a sigh.

“Why'd it have to be you guys?” he muttered. Team Retro-Cardigan was an eight person squad that, much like other teams, was comprised of two different teams. In this case, Teams Retro Gamer and Cardigan. Team Retro Gamer consisted of four male Inklings all wearing the Retro Gamer Jersey, some form of headband, and sporting the buzz cut style, using the Bamboozler mk1, Luna Blaster, Dual Squelcher (which had been out of use for a good year and a bit), and Splattershot Pro. They were one of the few obviously all male teams out there. After their defeat, they had come to revere Gloves as their 'bro', much to his chagrin. Team School Cardigan, on the other hand, could be described as the exact opposite. They all wore the School Cardigan set, and were named after their different hair styles; Asymmetry, Short, Bun, and Long, while using the Splash-o-matic, Spattershot Jr, Tri-Slosher, and Inkbrush respectively. After their defeat, they came to revere Rider as their 'bro', much to his chagrin.

Team School Cardigan were also a bunch of dudes. No one really had a problem with cross-dressing, but Rider always found it odd that they went the extra mile to sound like girls too.

“Talk about a blast from the past,” Gloves spoke up, adjusting his headphones. Gloves was, in Rider's opinion, one of those people that tried too hard to be cool. In his defence, Gloves didn't exactly come off as 'uncool', but it was a bit too much of a fixation for him. “Remember how those guys made people think we were alike?”

“We're nothing alike, Gloves,” Rider responded immediately. “I thought that one was put to bed already.”

“I know, I know,” Gloves shrugged, “just being a bit nostalgic, is all. Would it kill you to reminisce a little?”

“We'll have time for that when we've won the tournament.” Rider glanced at the screen above, as it counted down the last fifteen seconds. “Alright, everyone, stick to the plans. Gloves and co, take the right side. Prinz, you, Specs and co, take the left. My team and I will take the mid. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, Rider,” Specs said first.

“I'm cool with this,” Gloves replied. “Work best with who ya know, and all that.”

“We'll win this,” Prinz muttered, readying his Dualies, “I know we will.”

The buzzer sounded. “Alright, you lot,” Rider said, “let's make some noise!”

* * *

  


As the match started, Timey watched on from the sidelines. His face held a rather sour look to it.

The tournament officials had elected to hold two matches at once, and the rest of his team had decided to watch the battle between Knights Honour and Unseen University, on the very off chance that one of those two teams manage to beat SYG in the next round.

Timey personally didn't think either of those two teams would get past Rider, but better safe than sorry.

Within the first minute, both teams made it to centre stage. Within the second minute, a series of strange exchanges between the two teams, namely Rider with the Team School Cardigan part, and Gloves with Retro Gamer part, took place. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he was at least 67% certain that one of Team School Cardigan just called Rider their 'senpai'. He would have cringed at that, if he didn't take the slightest bit of enjoyment out of Rider's flustered reaction. Come to think of it, there was a rumour going around that Rider had a kind of crush on someone from Team Blue. Before a year ago, Timey never gave it much thought, but after 'the incident', he had concluded that Rider may have had a thing for Goggles.

Just another part of what makes the truth of this matter so much more painful.

The third minute ticked by, and, as expected of everyone who doesn't live under a rock, Team SYG had taken centre stage, and begun to invade the enemy base. It was barely at half time, and the match had just become sad to watch.

_'Guess even Inklings do some nasty things for love,'_ a small voice in the back of Timey's head said. One part of him agreed, while the other part wondered why it said 'even Inklings'.

He must have dozed for a moment, because when he came to, the match was over. Well, at least there's that. The next two matches contained Callie's team against Team FF, so this part will determine how the destiny of this bracket will go.

* * *

  


The moment Team FF took the field, the crowd practically erupted in a shared 'what the actual hell' reaction. It was also shared by Team Idol-lescense.

There were eight members to the team, each wielding one of the eight weapon types, and their gimmick was that they were all dressed in the Fresh Fish gear. That gear set alone was enough to leave people unsettled, but eight of them? Like something out of a horror game, that is.

“Jesus Carp, how horrifying,” Callie muttered dryly.

“I mean, I applaud their dedication to the theme,” Marie added, “but why? Why this?”

“I dunno what you girls are on about,” Pearl said, twirling her pair of Dapple Dualies (Timey: EVIL! Deej: Dude, what the eff got into you? Shades: He has a dislike for close range, high damage output weapons.). “They're not that scary.”

“Those eyes are staring into my soul,” Marina muttered. Her weapon of choice in this situation was a Tenta Brella.

The counter began to sound down to the beginning of the match. “Let's try to wrap this up quickly,” Marie said, hoisted the Hero Charger over her shoulders. “The less we have to deal with this nightmare fuel, the better.”

* * *

  


“My Cod, why would anyone do that?” Shades asked from the audience.

“It's like every nightmare rolled into one,” Timey added, “cloned itself, shagged the clone, and then had octuplets.”

“That is... a terrifying thought,” Deej replied.

“I don't get it,” Eighter said. “What's the big deal with the Fresh Fish gear?”

“Can't you see the terror they radiate?” Shades shouted. “I mean, look at Basic! He's practically turned to stone!” True to statement, Basic's form had gone practically rock solid.

“I don't see it,” Ahato commented. “I think they look kinda cute, honestly.”

“Blasphemy!” Deej pointed.

Five minutes in, and Team Idol-lecsense had the blatant upper hand.

There was no doubt in anyones minds that Team FF was currently starstruck by the fact that they were facing off against four of the most famous cephelopods on the planet.

The quartet were a little bummed about that fact, but hey, easy win. Take what you can get.

* * *

  


Mid-afternoon came by in a flash, and it was time for the final two matches of the first round. Between then and now were the matches between Teams S4+1 and Unknown, and Teams Inkorporated and Yami. The winners of these matches were Teams S4+1 (to the surprise of no one) and Yami.

The final two matches of the day were finally coming up. The matches between Arland and Old-School Literature, and Bangaichi and X-Blood.

Let's focus more on the latter, shall we?

The stage of Arowana Mall was set, and the stage was in such a way that the six members of Team Bangaichi could stare down to the spawn point of Team X-Blood.

Team X-Blood was a four person team consisting of Vintage (who wears Fake Contacts, Takoroka Nylon Vintage, Orca Hi-Tops, and wields a Ballpoint Splatling), Omega (Fake Contacts, Omega-3 Tee, Toni Kensa Black Hi-Tops, and wields a Nautilus Splatling), Red Sole (Squid Clip-Ons, Annaki Blue Cuff, Navy Red-Soled Wingtips, and a Bloblobber), and Double Egg (Double Egg Shades, Custom Painted F-3, Amber Sea Slug Hi-Tops, and Tetra Dualies). They were the highest ranking team on Ranked, holding the most coveted Rank X.

Timey felt his brow twitch when he made eye contact with Vintage, the leader of X-Blood. He personally never liked them. Their philosophy was 'if you can't keep up, you're not worth our time' when it came to matches, but their play-style was anything but sporting. The very instant they got ahead in Ranked, they would instantly shift to a defensive play-style which, while not a bad thing in and of itself, led to them acting like they're kings of the freaking stage.

Timey wasn't one to throw around the word 'hate', but this might just be one of the few exceptions.

_'You're telling me,'_ the small voice in the back of his mind commented, much to his surprise.

“I think I might actually be going crazy,” he muttered, low enough that no one heard him.

“Alright, folks, are we ready to start the final rounds for today?” Mesh shouted. “Without further ado, let's get this show on the road!”

The buzzer sounded, and the match began.

“Alright, everyone, stick to the plan,” Shades spoke. “Deej and Eighter, you two have the left. Timey and Ahato, you've got mid. Basic and I have the right. If you encounter the enemy, bait them, but do so carefully. Team X-Blood is known for their tight defences.”

“A shield is only as strong as its thinnest plate,” Ahato said.

“Nice comment, princess,” Deej replied. “Who ya quoting?”

“...Me,” she responded bluntly. “I'm quoting myself, circa now.”

“Hey guys? Less witty banter, more winning battle,” Shades cut them off.

* * *

  


Timey and Ahato were the first to reach the centre of the arena. Being as quick as they could, they began covering as much turf as possible.

“You know, I don't think we ever got the chance to properly chat,” Timey said. “In fact, I don't think we've been formally introduced.”

“Is there a need to?” Ahato replied. “I know you're Timey, aka Agent Three, and you know I'm Ahato, aka Dedf1sh. Plus, don't take it too personally, but I haven't exactly been seeking a conversation with you.”

“Not fond of me, I take it?” Really, Timey had expected that. “I get it. After all, I did defeat Octavio something fierce.”

“That ain't my problem,” she said. “My problem is the fact that you made Kashimi want to be a hero when we were trying to get away from Kamabo. It's not a bad thing, to be sure, but honestly? You're kinda the reason she and I were in that situation to begin with. The main reason I'm working with ya is because Kashimi likes you a great deal, and your basically an ambassador for Octarians in Inkopolis. I don't hate you, but I'm repaying a debt, nothing more.”

“So, you hold a grudge,” Timey noted, before chuckling lightly. “You know, I'm kinda glad you do.”

Ahato paused in her inkage. “Seriously? You some kind of masochist?”

“Realist, I'd say,” Timey responded. “I don't have any grand idea that everybody is going to like me. Heck, should we come out on top, and we finally convince Rider I'm not Goggles? He'll probably hate my guts. Knowing that you're not in this for me? I find that kind of welcoming.”

Ahato found herself rather bewildered at his statement. “You're a strange man, hero-boy, you know that?”

“Clearly,” Timey smirked, though that quickly faded. “Heads up. Vintage and Omega on our twelve.”

The moment the statement was made, the duo immediately leapt back to avoid the Splatling crossfire. The duo of Vintage and Omega looked utterly unamused at Timey and Ahato.

“So, they're the best of the best?” Ahato asked, taking aim. “They don't look like they could handle a serving of Octi's cooking!”

The shot was fired, yet Omega barely had to move in order to dodge. “You have got to tell me that story at some point,” Timey stated, firing at Vintage, who was making minimal movements to avoid fire.

Four sounds echoed across the stage. Four sounds that were distinctly splatting sounds. “Oh carp,” Timey muttered, as the rest of Team X-Blood got the drop on him and Ahato.

_'That's putting it politely.'_

As the duo were returning to spawn, Timey allowed himself to think the obvious question: _“Who the bloody hell are you?”_

The two landed back at spawn, and as expected, were met with Deej, Eighter, and Shades.

...Wait.

“Where's Basic?” Timey asked.

“Don't worry about it,” Shades replied bluntly. “Focus on our offence.” Now, there was something blatantly odd about Shades' statement. Timey wanted to say there was a certain level of venom in her voice, but it felt... hollow. Like she was trying to cover something else up.

Thoughts for later.

“Alright, everyone, we move as one unit!” Shades ordered. “Once we're into the main quadrant, scatter and splatter!”

Deej chuckled. “Oh, I love it when you rhyme your plans!”

Almost immediately, they were set upon by Team X-Blood, and splattered just as quickly. By the time they had respawned, Team X-Blood had taken the classic spawn camping positions of Arowana Mall; that being the two outcropping vantage points and the stairs to the side paths.

“How droll,” Vintage muttered. “Is this really the best a group like yours can muster?”

Timey felt his brow twitch slightly. “And again, every word you say just serves to piss me off,” he shouted. “What the heck does a team like yours even need a theoretical wish for?”

Red Sole gave a shrill (and noticeably annoying) laugh. “Sounds like Mr Not-who-he-says-he-is is getting salty!”

“Quite, Sole,” Vintage cut in. “All we need that wish for is a culling. There are far too many novices in this sport for our liking.”

“What the actual shit?” Deej called. “You want to bar beginners from Turf and Ranked? The entire point is to...”

“To what? Have 'fun'?” The way Vintage said the word 'fun' only served to add to Bangaichi's ire. “The entire lobby is oversaturated with imbeciles looking for 'fun', that it's impossible to find a good match.”

Without a word, Eighter departed from the spawn, Splatling revved up, and began firing at Vintage. The shots fell short, and she was splatted immediately.

Timey let out a low growl. A sound shared by the rest of his team. “We can't let these bastards win,” he muttered. “This isn't just about us anymore. This is a fight for the integrity of Splat Battles. Let's go!”

* * *

  


From a small corner on the right-side path, a spot that is known for camping, Basic crawled out of the ink on the wall.

“That was... dangerously close,” he muttered quietly, taking a look at the map. It had been Shades' plan for him to slip by their defences through faking being splatted, and thanks to Deej's upgrades to Basic's shirt, which included the Ninja Squid ability, that was executed flawlessly.

You know what wasn't flawless, though? Team X-Blood's coverage. Sure, they had gone about erasing all the progress Team Bangaichi had made, but the ink coverage on their own side of the map was minimalist at best.

He checked the clock. 5 minutes and thirty seconds. Basic allowed himself his first ever smirk. This was going to be a laugh.

* * *

  


By the 3:25 mark, Basic had managed a few things: Firstly, he had fully covered the X-Blood spawn up to mid, somehow without them even noticing (Shades' distraction was really doing wonders). Second, he had noticed that his Special gauge was currently charged up to 500%. Odd, but considering the lack of general rules, not too surprising. Thirdly, he had placed Ink Mines all over their spawn area. An excess of Ink Mines. More Ink Mines than a war zone.

Finally, though, he was set up on a covert vantage point, needing to kill two more minutes, with a pencil and notepad, sketching away.

He had also noticed that nobody in the audience, or even announcer Mesh, had made any noise about his covert operations. Guess this is the power of the popular vote.

“And we're now at the minute thirty mark!” Mesh shouted over the comms. “I have to say, I never thought things would turn out quite like this!”

Ah, blatant ambiguity and favouritism, thy name is Mesh. Signing his sketch, Basic tore it off his notepad, folded into a paper plane, and threw it towards the enemy spawn.

“Now, time to mess them up.”

First up, he snuck to the right-side path (if facing away from the Bangaichi spawn), and let a Curling bomb go across the path to its target, the one named Red Sole. Next, he prepared one of his new weapons, a simple Charger, and took aim at Omega, whom had taken up the right-side vantage point.

Now, to wait for the signal.

“If this is the best you've got,” Vintage spoke, “then you're all better of as sea food.”

“How about you get off your high horse?” Shades shot back. “In case you haven't realised, we have you right where we want you.”

“Oh?” Omega voiced. “And how do you?”

“Not 'how'. Now.”

There it was. Basic pulled the trigger, just as the Curling bomb went off. Two splats in one moment.

Vintage's eyes shot to Basic. “When did you..?” He was unable to finish the sentence, as Ahato snipped him the first chance she got. Double Egg also went down quickly, to a combination attack from Deej and Eighter.

Timey and Shades went through the outcropping path first, where Basic met them. “Somebody order a sudden hero?” Basic asked as coyly as he could.

“So that's what was going on,” Timey noted, nodding as he did. “Nicely done, Basic.”

“Oh, that's not the half of it.”

* * *

  


As Team X-Blood returned to spawn, they finally took notice of the magenta colour the stage had taken.

They had been tricked, hoodwinked, and quite possibly bamboozled.

Vintage did not take this well.

When he spawned back in, he noticed a paper plane glide gently towards him. He unfolded it, to find a rough sketch of each one of them from the back, signed 'You all have such nice backsides. It's a shame most people don't get to see them often. Love, Basic, aka Theodore'.

Vintage took this much worse. He was, as the saying went, blind with rage. He paid no attention to his team mates asking him to calm down, as he stepped onto the inked floor.

That was when he found the mines.

From the commentators booth, Mesh had broken down into a laughing fit.

Meanwhile, with Team Bangaichi.

“Ah, sounds like they found the mines,” Basic noted, as his splat counter went up by one.

“You planted mines?” Deej asked. “Nice. How many.”

Several more explosions echoed in the distance, and the splat counter went up by three. Basic gave a simple answer; “An abundance.”

Ahato gave a small chuckle. “Oh, that brat's gonna be pissed.”

In the distance, another series of Ink Mines went off, coupled by the sound of Vintage shouting “I will end you” at the top of his lungs.

“Oh, I'm aware he's going to be angry,” Basic replied. “After all, I made a quick sketch of his back and left it at their spawn.”

At this point, Deej was in a bit of a laughing fit himself. “And you were worried you wouldn't fit in with us.”

To put into perspective what 'an abundance' meant for Ink Mines; it takes roughly three mines in order to splat one person, be it with direct hits or splash damage. With really poor choices, an entire team can be splatted by three mines. Of course, Team X-Blood is not that stupid, so they would have scattered in at least two directions after one mine goes off, meaning that, on average, it would take roughly seven mines to splat the entire team if they broke off into two groups after the first mine, and again into individuals after the next two go off.

Basic had placed as many mines as he could conceivable fit into that third of the map. So, on average, if Team X-Blood were to trip every last one of them, they would have been splatted roughly seventeen times each. Of course, that's on the assumption that they go into the absolute corners to get those excess mines.

After a good, amusing while, the buzzer finally sounded, ending the match. “That's... that's the ma...match,” Mesh barely managed to wheeze out between laughs. “And, oh man, that was... that was something. I am so, _so_ glad I have this job, if it means getting to see something like that. That right there is what this tournament is all about!”

The scores were tallied up, and to the surprise of absolutely no one, it was a landslide victory for Team Bangaichi.

What an absolute ball of a match. That was the sort of thought that Basic had. Being able to stick it to self-righteous guys like Vintage with great strategies and traps? What's not to love?

* * *

  


The first moment Vintage had to himself, he slammed his fist against the wall in rage.

He hadn't just be defeated. He was absolutely humiliated. By a damn novice, at that! With Ink Mines! Who the hell uses Ink Mines?

_'Those guys had to have cheated,'_ he thought. _'There's no way they could have...'_

But they didn't cheat, and he knew it. You can't cheat if there are no rules to play by. That was his downfall here. He tried to use Ranked strategies in a lawless area.

Ah, the pain of his own hubris.

“You know, despite what your team mate said during the match, you're being pretty salty yourself,” an unexpected voice spoke. Vintage pivoted around, to be met by the afro-totting cephalopod that was Deej.

“You,” me muttered bitterly. “Here to rub your victory in my face?”

“Nah. Not nearly that big of an ass,” Deej shrugged. “What I do want to know, though, is when you stopped having fun.”

Vintage opened his mouth to answer, but stopped short. When _did_ that happen? At this point, he could only let out a dry chuckle. “You know, I'm not too sure, myself.” There was a rather sombre pause, before... “So, what do you plan to do with that wish? Get Rider off your leaders back?”

“You know, that was one option,” Deej replied, “but at the same time, we've got something a bit more worthwhile for the chance of a once off, no strings attached wish.”

“And you'll just leave it at that, then? Whatever,” Vintage turned, and began walking away. “I'd say 'best of luck', but I doubt you need it.”

Deej chuckled, and gave a backwards wave. “Well, you're not wrong, there.”

* * *

  


Timey, Eighter, Basic, Ahato and Shades took a seat just outside the lobby, thoroughly exhausted.

“Well, that was freaking gruelling,” Ahato said. “Don'tcha think you could have filled us in on the plan ahead of time, Roomie?”

“The best deceptions are the ones that fool even your allies,” Shades answered. “Also, you can stop calling me that. You moved in with Eighter yesterday, didn't you?”

“What, and pass up on giving you a nickname?”

“She has you there, Shades,” Eighter said. “She has taken to calling me 'Love', and Timey 'Hero', after all. I think the only ones she calls by name are Deej and Basic.”

“Actually, I think she sometimes calls Mr Deej by number,” Basic added, before turning his attention to Timey. “Mr Timey, do we know who our next opponents will be?”

“Just one tick,” Timey said, tapping away at his phone. “There we are. Looks like our next opponent will be... Team Old-School Literature. Seems they pulled a narrow, one point win off of Team Arland.”

“Ooh, narrow win?” Ahato said, leaning across Shades to look at Timey's phone. “What else do ya know about them, Hero?”

“They're one of the few legitimate all-girl teams in the sport,” Timey answered. “They're a team of five, this time, consisting of four Inklings and an Octoling -that's a first-.”

“Four Inklings and an Octoling?” Shades asked. “They must be new to the scene, then.”

“Actually, their career looks to be as old as yours, Shades,” Timey noted. “Not only that, but the Octoling is their leader.”

“I'm liking the sounds of these girls more and more,” Ahato said. “What're their names?”

“Let's see,” Timey tapped away a bit more. “Their leader goes by the name Moni -odd name by Octarian standards, I must say-, and the Inklings are Drive, Anchor, Sunny, and Carrot. They main the Hydra Splatling, Grim Range Blaster, Goo Tuber, Kensa Pro, and the Undercover Brella.”

“So they like long ranged battles?” Ahato noted. “Sounds fun, wouldn't you say, Roomie?” Silence was the answer she was met with. “Roomie? You alright there?”

Now, Shades wasn't the darkest person around -she would usually be described as 'lightly tanned'-, but when compared to the other four present, she had the darkest tone by far. So, naturally, it was easy to tell something was wrong, if she was currently paler that Eighter.

“Yo, Shades,” Timey spoke up, “you doing alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Shades stammered over her words for a moment. “I... Um.... Well, you see...” Oh, this can't be good. At that moment, Shades hastily stood up. “I have to go.”

“What? Shades?!” Timey called out, but his long time team mate was already ways away. “What's gotten into her?”

“Old flame, maybe?” Ahato suggested. “People get weird when they meet their exes after a few years.”

“No, I don't think it's that,” Timey replied. “It felt... like she was trying to avoid something. Kind of like me with Rider.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up the entire first round of the tournament in a single chapter? Blasphemy!  
> Well, to be fair, I wasn't going to write all eight matches. Heck, it would have been hard enough to write the four matches that involved characters of interest. So, instead, and abridging of two of them, and a focus on main characters, because main characters.  
> To be honest, I was rather ambivalent about including Team X-Blood, since they're rather recent to the manga as of writing this. But, since they had their first debut (from our perspective) match in chapter 35 (most recent as of writing), I felt I could pull it off to a somewhat acceptable degree. Also, up yours, Vintage, you damn elitist.  
> So now, the past of Shades finally starts to reveal itself, as we go into round two. Until then.  
> Allons'y!


	10. A Light in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one has been strong for so long, how does one know when to ask if they are okay?

It would be roughly two days until the next round started. In order to pass such time, Team Bangaichi had done their usual 'break off into separate groups and do whatever' routine.

This time, Timey found himself meditating at the highest peak of Moray Towers. Meditation wasn't something he found himself doing too often, but over the past year, he found himself doing it often enough that he had picked out favourite spots. Namely, they were places either very high up, or very low down.

… Moray and Octo Valley. His favourite places were Moray and Octo Valley. Well, Octo Canyon, now, since that's where their new base of operation is.

Regardless, Timey now had many things on his mind, and not just the whole Rider situation.

After a moment of pondering, he pulled his phone out, and decided it best to seek counsel.

**Private Chat:**

**Three_O'Clock:** Marina, do you have a moment?

_DJ_Hyperfish has joined the chat._

**DJ_Hyperfish:** Sure thing. What's up?

**Three_O'Clock:** There's something that's been bothering me for a while now. Wasn't your original handle DJ Hyperfresh?

**DJ_Hyperfish:** … That's what's bothering you?

**Three_O'Clock:** Among other things.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** … Alright, then. To be honest, it's just a typo after I got a new phone, and haven't bothered to change it back. I don't think anyone else noticed, either.

**Three_O'Clock:** Well, at least that answers that. Sorry to take up your time.

**DJ_Hyperfish:** No problem. I'm always glad to help.

Timey returned his phone to his pocket, and let out a sigh, glad to have one thing off his mind.

_'Seriously, squid? That's what was bothering you?'_ that voice in the back of his head asked.

Timey slammed his hands against the ground. “Hah! I knew you'd show up if I complained about something petty!”

The voice reacted in surprise. _'Wait, you used that as BAIT?'_ it said.

“Damn right I did,” Timey shouted, assuming meditation position. “Now, either you start talking, or I'm coming in there to find out just who the shell you are!”

_'Wait, what does that even...'_

* * *

  
  


Generally speaking, the act of meditation would not really do what Timey had intended for; that being the creation of a temporary mental space in order to interact with a quasi-corporeal being. That being said, though, Inklings were not known to act on the same levels of logic as the humans of old.

So, it should come as no surprise that Timey did, in fact, manifest a sort of mental space to project himself into in order to interact with this strange voice, complete with visual representation of said interaction.

Although, he did find it odd that the mental scape looked kinda like the Deep Sea Metro.

“You squids are absolutely weird, you know?” the voice said. “You went through all this trouble, just to confirm whether or not you were crazy?”

Timey took a hard look at the source of the voice, and immediate took a defensive stance. “Tartar? How are you still alive?”

“Technically, I'm not,” the AI/phone responded, as a light came on above. “I am nothing more than a remnant left over from when I was controlling you.”

“So a part of you is still inside of me?” Timey asked with a cringe. “Gross.”

“No, what's 'gross' is how you phrased that,” Tartar shot back.

“So, what now?” Timey asked. “You going to try and take me over again? I don't know if you've realised, but my strength has sextupled since we last met.”

“Please, don't give me the whole 'my friends are my power' spiel. Seriously, that cliché's is older than humans.” There was something... odd, in the way Tartar was talking. There was a distinct lack of animosity. “Even if I actually wanted to, I don't have the strength to maintain control of you. If I tried, I'd probably only be able to make you do one small thing before I expire.”

“So you've just been... sitting here... all these months?”

“All these months.”

“Why?”

“Observing,” came the most unexpected answer. “For thousands of years, I was planning the eradication of your kinds based on the sins of your forefathers. I figured, since I'm now here, I'd see how things have changed. I must say, though, from what I've seen through your eyes... it's put a lot in perspective for me.”

Now, you'd thought it impossible, but Tartar, the being whose physical form is quite literally a phone with bells for eyes, looked sad. “What sort of perspective?”

“That humans weren't so much better,” he answered. “They, too, have made sports out of old war activities. They, too, have fought because of petty genetic differences. I guess... I lost sight of that at some point.”

That was... huh. Timey really didn't know what to say to this. It was kind of like meeting an old school yard bully, and learning that he was feeling remorseful after all those years. You know, if it was on a much grander scale, with the fate of the entire world on the line. “That's... wow,” Timey said.

“I guess so,” Tartar agreed. “I don't truly expect forgiveness, I'll say that much.”

“And I'm in no place to give it,” Timey replied. “But, what I can give, is acceptance. I can't guarantee everything you said is true right now, but I guess you're not in a position to lie. I'd rather believe you have a chance to be good, than take the easy way out of this.”

Tartar gave a small chuckle. “You know, you're unbearable naïve at times.”

Timey smiled, as the Metro began to fade to white. “Well, what else would I be, if not Timey?”

* * *

  
  


Timey opened his eyes once more, to the gleaming lights of Moray Towers. He quickly checked his watch, to notice no time had passed at all. Got to love those sorts of things.

A series of footsteps echoed across the range, and a voice spoke the words “Excuse me”. Timey turned around, to be met with an Octoling with her tentacles tied into a tail, white eyes, and dressed in an Annaki Beret, Enchanted Robe, and Black Trainers. “You wouldn't happen to be Timey, would you? Leader of Team Bangaichi?”

“That would be me, yes,” he replied. “And let me guess, you're Moni, right? Leader of Team Old-School Literature?”

“That's me,” she said brightly. “I'm surprised you knew that. I'd've thought you would have been focusing more on Rider and the S4, rather than our small time team.”

“The greatest losses come from over confidence,” Timey said. “If I didn't take you seriously, we'd be bound to lose.”

“Well, I'm flattered none-the-less,” Moni said. There was a brief pause, before she spoke again. “I came looking for you because I wanted to ask you something.”

“Then go ahead. Ask away.”

Timey noticed a slight hesitation in her eyes. “On your team. The one named 'Shades'... are they a girl with tan skin, orange eyes, and short tentacles? Mostly known for wearing the 18K Aviators?”

Timey barely managed to mask the slight twitch in his fingers. _'So, she does know Team Old-School Literature,'_ he thought. “If it was, what would you do?” he asked, trying to keep a friendly tone.

“I...” Moni swallowed nervously. “I want to know how she's doing. That's all.”

...Okay, that was at least a bit of a relief. “In that case, she is the one you're thinking of,” he answered. “I must ask, though, what happened between you two? When she learned you were our next opponent, she looked... afraid. She's the sort of person I've never seen afraid.”

Moni gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds like old Shades, alright.” There was another, sombre pause. “Shades and I... we use to be a thing. The closest I've ever been with anybody after I came to Inkopolis.”

“I'm guessing you went the whole nine yards to hide your identity?” Timey asked. “Wig, make-up, and all that?”

Her eyes widened slightly, before she gave a knowing smile. “Yeah. Guess you'd know about that, wouldn't you? Seeing as though you have three of us on your team.”

“Believe it or not, I actually learned about that from Basic. His sister, you see...”

“No kidding?” Moni wondered. “I guess you never know where you'll learn these things.”

“With you on that one,” Timey agreed.

“... We broke up about a year ago,” Moni continued. “A slight... slip up, we'll call it, caused my disguise to fall apart. She... didn't react well to it.”

“ _You want me to do what?” Shades asked._

“ _You know,” Timey replied, “get to know Eighter and Deej more. Maybe go to the movies as a team. Just... hang out. As friends.”_

“So that's why she acts like she's so cold,” Timey muttered.

“ _Not a chance in hell,” she said. “I don't know if you've realised, Agent Three, but I don't do 'friends'. Especially not with Octarians.”_

“ _You know, you say that,” Timey straightened himself out, “but whenever the four of us are turfing together, you seem to genuinely have a good time.”_

_Shades let out a sound of surprise. “Would you stop acting like you know me?”_

_Timey gave a friendly smile. “Not a chance in hell. You're already our friend, whether you like it or not!”_

“She... must be under an immense amount of guilt,” he finished. “She was always going on about being afraid of coming off as racist, yet she never seemed to make any sort of overt comment that would be so.”

“Is that right?” Moni asked. “I'm glad. She's... coping well, I guess.” Timey had almost expected her to sound slightly bitter, yet he noted that her voice carried a heavy tinge of sadness to it. “One last question; is she... seeing anyone at the moment?”

_'Ooooooh carp,'_ Timey thought. _'Tartar, help me out here.'_

_'Leave me out of this,'_ came the internal response.

Timey managed to keep himself from sweating, at least for the moment. What was he to do here? Tell someone who still clearly held a candle for his friend that, yes, she has got someone else in her life?

… Okay, that's blatantly the right thing to do, but it's still uncomfortable news to give. Steeling his nerves, he told the truth.

Moni gave a sad laugh. “I see... I'm glad, that she's... at least moving on.”

_'She's not 'moving on','_ Timey wanted to say. _'That implies she's not currently being haunted by what happened.'_

“Well, sorry to take up your time,” Moni said. “Thank you for talking with me, Timey. I'm... glad Shades has such a good friend. I'll... see you in a few days.”

With that, Timey was once again by himself, with only the wind to grand him company. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his phone out.

**Message Room:**

_Three_O'Clock has added Agent_Octopod, Tenta-fool, Dedf1sh, and Basic to the chat._

**Three_O'Clock:** Emergency meeting. Meet at the Crust Bucket in half an hour. Lunch can be my treat.

**Tenta-fool:** wait, just us? what about squid sisters?

**Three_O'Clock:** No time. Would draw too much attention. Will get on phone if opportunity arises.

**Dedf1sh:** What about Roomie? Or does this involve her in other ways.

**Three_O'Clock:** It concerns her, yes. Will explain more in person. Easier that way.

The phone was quickly returned to his pocked, and choosing the quickest path, Super Jumped away.

* * *

  
  


Timey quickly skidded to a halt on a small alleyway a few blocks from Inkopolis Square. Not the most ideal landing spot, but he supposed the walk would do him good. At least he'd have time to get his information in order.

Although, the extra three sets of foot steps he could hear weren't doing him any favours.

Letting out an irritated sigh (this was really becoming a thing for him), he turned around to face the source. “Why don't you just come on out, already?” he shouted. “Like it or not, I'm actually in a rather bad mood today, and there are places I'd rather be than dealing with whatever this is.”

Three Inklings came around the first corner in that direction, and... _'Oh. It's members of Team SYG,'_ Timey thought rather bitterly.

“Hey, now, no need to be rude,” one of them, Gloves, said. “That's not very cool of you, pal.”

“Well, sorry,” Timey replied sarcastically (Tartar: _Wow. I didn't even know a guy like you could do sarcasm._ ), “but right now, I've other things to do. So, if this is going to be more of the usual, then I'm not interested.”

Specs, because of course he was also here, took a step forward. “Goggles, just how long are you going to keep at this? We're your friends!”

“'Friends' don't force people to be who they're not,” Timey replied. It wasn't often that he got this agitated, but guess there's a first time for everything. “Like it or not, but we've never met before a year ago. My name, as I've said many times before, is Timey. Always has been, and always will be.”

Rider (did you seriously expect anyone else?) looked to Timey with a rather forlorn gaze. “I guess those people have really hammered that identity into you, huh?”

Obviously, Timey did _not_ like the implications being made with that statement. “Would you care to elaborate on that, or should I just skip to the part where I attack you for insinuating my friends are brainwashing me?” It was the way he spat the word 'brainwashing' that caused the trio before him to suddenly look rather fearful.

“Well, it's clear that something's not right,” Rider managed to continue. “We've tried again and again to get you to remember. If nothing's working, then it should be obvious that those 'friends' of yours are...”

Rider never got to finish that sentence. In Timey's eyes, he crossed a line too far. There was barely any time for any of them to react, before Timey had grabbed Rider by the front of his jacket and slammed him into the nearest wall. “Rider, I'm only going to say this once,” Timey muttered angrily. “Don't you _ever_ , insinuate that my friends are not good people! If you do, then when we meet in battle next, I will make sure you taste true despair. I will let victory dangle in front of you, up until the last Cod damned second, and then, just when you think you've won, I will rip it away from you. I won't absolutely dominate the field like Team Emperor does; I'll tear the win, and that wish, away from you by three points. That, I promise you.” Timey released his grip, letting Rider fall to the ground. “You know, over the past two years, I've dealt with many things. Things that would make anyone question their moral and emotional states. Yet, at the end of all those trials, I've always come out smiling, feeling like I've won without compromise. So congratulations, Rider...”

“You've actually managed to make me angry.”

* * *

  
  


Deej checked the time once more. “Where is he?” he asked. “He told us to meet here, yet he ended up being late.”

“Perhaps he ran into trouble?” Basic suggested. “I did notice some of Team SYG moving around.”

“That's a worry,” Eighter responded. “Perhaps we should...”

“Scratch that, folks. I see him,” Ahato cut off, pointing towards Timey as he approached.

Everyone had to do a double take, just to confirm it was him. After all, he looked pretty damn angry.

“Yo, T-dog. You alright there?” Deej asked. “You're... actually angry for once. Did hell freeze over?”

“That would have been a _good_ day, in comparison,” Timey replied. “No, I just had a run in with Rider.”

There was a shared cringe among the group. “Yeah, I'd take hell freezing over that,” Eighter muttered.

“Will you be alright, Mr Timey?” Basic asked.

“In a bit. First off, though,” he slammed a stack of food tickets on the table. Well, 'stack' didn't exactly do it justice. It was more like a brick of tickets, “I need some comfort food. Take what you will from the pile. I'll be right back.”

Taking four tickets from the brick, Timey made his way towards the food truck, leaving the rest bewildered. “Damn, it's bad,” Deej muttered. “He took three Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffles and a Mark-Shaker Cocoa.”

Ahato gave the afro-Octo a flat look. “You're really going to have to explain this to me, 2084,” she said, “because I'm currently as confused as a homeless man under house arrest.”

“The Shwaffle is basically two waffles and shrimps, absolutely swimming in ice cream and chocolate sauce,” Deej elaborated. “Timey just order three of those. At the largest size.”

Ahato felt her mouth drop. “Just... how much can Inklings eat? And, did you say shrimps? But, isn't the chef also..?”

“Just don't ask,” Eighter interrupted. “If you think shrimps cooking shrimps is odd, wait until you're introduced to Squid Rings.”

Ahato gazed in bewilderment at Basic, on account of him being the nearest Inkling. “What.”

Basic fidgeted under the gaze. “I mean, they're strangely delicious.”

“Morbidly, more like it,” Ahato muttered. “Still, doesn't sound as bad as our old chef.”

“Yeah, I remember ol' Octi,” Deej added. Where they paying enough attention, they would have noticed Basic's surprised reaction. “Not the best chef out there, but damn is she didn't have spirit.”

“Yeah, good times.” Ahato looked towards the sky as she spoke. “It's been what, eleven years since she defected? Wonder if she's still around?”

Before anything else could be said, be it Eighter's curiosity about this 'Octi', or Basic's absolute surprise, Timey had made his return, carrying a tray with three Shwaffles (which were easily the size of his blood head!) and a drink. All surprise from the previous conversation was replaced by surprise by the simple fact that Timey _was planning to eat what looked to be equal to his own body weight_.

“Jeez, dude, isn't that a bit overboard?” Ahato asked, trying to resist the fact that they did look rather appetising. “I mean, I get the whole 'comfort food' thing, but I can't see you eating all three of those...”

She had only blinked. During the time she was talking, she had only blinked. Yet somehow, in that time-frame of half a second, Timey had practically inhaled the three Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffles, and was already halfway through his drink. On one hand, he was looking quite a bit more composed and relaxed now. On the other, though... what the actual hell?

Timey let out a small burp. “Whew. That's not going to be comfortable coming out the other end,” he said quietly. “Aren't you guys going to order anything?”

At that moment, Deej slammed his hands against the table, and took a ticket from the brick. “You know what? Just watching that made me hungry.”

Ahato turned her gaze to Deej. “You mean you saw that? Just now?”

“Timey's a quick eater,” Eighter answered, taking a ticket for herself. “You'll get used to it, in time.”

“I'm not sure I will, to be honest,” Ahato mumbled, as she too took a ticket.

Basic had a small laugh. “This really is a colourful group,” he said. “I'm glad I decided to be a part of it.”

“As am I,” Timey agreed, dabbing the side of his mouth with a napkin. “Aren't you going to order anything?”

“Nah, I had a big breakfast,” Basic answered. “I've found I like doing most of my daily plans in the morning, and finishing off with a light lunch.”

Timey chuckled slightly. “Well, at least someone here has their stuff together.” A brief pause, before he pulled out his phone. “Well, while we wait, I'll see if I can't get Callie and Marie on the fog-horn.”

Flicking through his phonebook as the rest of the team got back with their food, and selected Marie's number. He was fairly certain the Squid Sisters with currently with each other at the moment.

The phone rang for a few seconds, and was thankfully answered. “Hello? Marie speaking.”

“Marie, is me,” Timey answered. “You free at the moment? Think I've got some answers for what happened yesterday.”

“Oh thank Cod one of us managed to get somewhere,” Marie sighed in relief. “Callie and I have been trying to talk to Shades all day, but she won't open her door.”

“It's honestly quite scary,” Callie added. “Shades always struck me as the one with the most self-confidence. It's hard to imagine what could have caused this.”

“Well, I've at least got some answers,” Timey replied. “Now, it all started -well, ended, actually- around a year ago...”

* * *

  
  


Within the darkness of her apartment, Shades sat with her back against the locked door, listening to the Squid Sisters talk. The moment she realised that Timey knew, though, she fled to the furthest room in her apartment.

Said furthest room, however, was one that she hadn't been in in a long time.

Despite the fact that this was a rather cheap apartment, it was quite large. Large enough for two bathrooms, for that matter; one main, and the other for guests.

The main bathroom had not seen proper use in over a year.

Maybe it was the broken mirror. Maybe it was that accursed set of happy memories that were tainted by poor choices.

But really, it was probably to do with the broken pair of SV925 Circle Shades that occupied the floor.

Many people found Shades to be an odd one, on account that her name doesn't match up with any gear she wears. Most people either just didn't care enough to inquire, or assumed it was because, if she were named after her Aviators, she would be sharing a name with one of the member of the S4's teams.

As it was, though, the answer was that she wasn't named for the Aviators, but rather the Circle Shades.

Shades bent down and picked the broken spectacles up. The left most of the two temples had broken off at the hinge, the bridge was bent 90 degrees upwards, the right lens was half broken, and the left one was in a few hundred pieces on the floor, leaving only a tiny sliver of the lens in the frame.

She allowed her gaze to wander to the few shards of mirror that remained fixed to the wall. The majority of pieces were missing from the centre, and she could only barely make out her own outline and face from what remained.

As if she needed a broken mirror to tell her she looked like a mess.

Those memories never left her. No memory ever truly does. But, those times, as a part of Team School Literature, were truly some of her favourites.

And she went and screwed it all up. And for what reason? Because her useless ass father went and hammered in some pointless hatred for Octolings? She wasn't sure if there was an afterlife, but if there was, she deeply wished that guy was rotting in hell.

Shades' father was to her, what Rider and Team SYG is to Timey; a blightful shadow that loomed over their lives and ruined everything.

Perhaps that was why she felt as invested in this Rider situation as she did. Not just because Timey's her friend, but because she feels as though, through this, she might be able to conquer her own demons.

It's hard to conquer a demon in hell, after all, so a proxy would have to do.

But could she defeat Rider, if it means trampling over broken hearts again?

* * *

  
  


“... and that's about the gist of it,” Timey finished. “At least, by my interpretation.”

A sorrowful silence hung in the air. “That's just... wow,” Deej said after a long pause. “I mean, I was only kidding when I said that harsh backstories are basically a prerequisite for our group, but... damn.”

“No wonder she tries to avoid me as much as possible,” Ahato muttered. “Damn it, Roomie. We're big girls! We can take a few insults our way!”

“I don't think it was just for our sake,” Eighter said. “I think... she's just been trying to cope with it her own way.”

“But, that can't be it,” Basic added. “Sure, Miss Shades is impersonal for the most part, but she's not a bad person.”

“I don't think anyone's saying she is, kiddo,” Marie replied. It was rather evident that she was the most moved by the story. “Carp. I knew she didn't have the best social life, but...”

“Regardless,” Timey interrupted, “we can't just leave it be. Our friend is in need of our help. I don't have any sort of grand plan, but we have two days until our match with Team Old-School Literature. I don't feel particularly good about having to face off against them, but if we must, then we must.”

“But what can we do?” Ahato asked. “What, are you just going to magically hero up some plan?”

“Whoa there, Deddy,” Deej exclaimed. “No need to be all sassy with T-dog.”

“No, she's right,” Timey said. “For the most part, I've just been flying by the seat of my pants. Whenever a problem presented itself, I tended to just wing it until a solution came to mind. But, right now, I've got nothing. All I can think of doing is just what we always do, and let Shades know that we're still behind her, all the way.”

There was a brief moment of silence, before Ahato spoke. “Well damn, that's not too bad an idea,” she conceded. “It's not big, but it's simple enough to work.”

“Eventually, maybe, but it's not immediate solution,” Timey added. “If it were within my power, I'd be trying to find a solution now, but I don't have anything to draw on for it.”

“Then we'll just have to do what we can,” Eighter said. “It's the least we can do, right?”

* * *

  
  


From around a corner, two unexpected eavesdroppers eavesdropped on the conversation. These two were, as it so happened, Bobble Hat and Headphones of Team SYG.

Well, maybe Headphones wasn't expecting to overhear such a conversation, but Bobble Hat fully intended for the two of them to be in this situation. She wasn't sure how to convince people that this whole 'get wish to get Goggles back' plan wasn't going to work with words, so she figured she'd try something with a bit more subterfuge.

From the look on Headphones' face, it was seeming to work. Despite how she acted over a year ago, Bobble Hat had managed to become a pretty damn good planner.

Headphones' mouth opened and closed a few times, as she gathered her thought. “But he's... showing tact? How is...”

“Because he's not him,” Bobble Hat answered. “I know it's hard to accept, but... he's not Goggles.”

“But... but then, the one who came back... that was...”

Now, it was very evident that Headphones was trying to keep herself from crying. Bobble Hat couldn't blame her, really. This was quite the bombshell to drop on her, but like it or not, it had to be done. “I understand if... you hate me for doing this,” Bobble Hat said sadly. “If... you never want to talk to me again, I get it. Just... don't force this on them, okay? Those people, they've got enough to deal with, without us adding to it.”

Headphones looked at Bobble Hat in bewilderment. “Hate y... I could never hate you! I...” Three words. There were only three words she wanted to say at this particular moment, if only to help her friend feel better. But, now wasn't the time or place for them. Even now, with the truth of the matter revealed to her, she would never hate her.

But, what was she to do now? Guilt had overtaken her heart, as she now looked back at the exchange that happened a week ago at Blackbelly Skate Park. How was a person suppose to make things right, after that?

“Have... have you tried telling the others? Rider?”

“A few times, but they won't listen,” Bobble Hat answered. “They're... disillusioned, I think. They can't believe he's anyone else but Goggles.”

It was always hard just to say his name, yet with how easily it came to her, Headphones was sure that Bobble Hat was currently telling the truth.

“Then,” she began, compiling her thoughts, “we just have to try. And if that doesn't work, then... We'll have to do things the old fashioned way.”

* * *

  
  


After Team Bangaichi had disbanded for the day, Basic decided to head back to his rented apartment and plan out the best ways he could to help Shades.

First off, though, he felt the need to make a call.

He dialled in a number, and waited for the one on the other end to pick up.

- _click_ \- “Hello?” a womans voice answered.

“Hey, sis. It's me,” he said.

“Basic!” she all but shouted. “I'm so glad to hear from you! How's the city been treating you?”

“It's been...” Basic paused. There were many words to describe the past week. 'Over the top', 'Absolutely hectic', 'A cavalcade of emotional trauma', and 'Holy shit' were a few of the phrases that passed through his head. In the end, though, he settled on “an experience.”

“I see,” she replied. “Well, at least it sounds like your having fun. Have you made any new friends?”

Now, here was something he could at least boast about. “Actually, yes,” he answered. “Quite a few, I might add. Some of them are even Octolings.”

“Really?” This caught her by surprise. “There are more Octolings coming to the surface? Why?”

“It's...” Come to think of it, he didn't really know why there were so many more Octolings now. He'd have to ask Timey about that soon. “Really, I'm not too sure. But, I can say that everyone's getting along.”

“I see. I'm glad to hear that.”

There was a slight pause, before Basic spoke again. “Sis, do you mind if I ask you something... a bit odd?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you... know anyone by the mane Ahato Mizuta?”

What followed for the next few seconds was a comically long series of crashing sounds. Well, if anything, that did answer the question. “Sorry, just... tripped a bit,” she finally said. “Did you say 'Ahato'?”

“I did.”

There was a brief moment of silence from his sister. “Did... did she do anything?”

“Aside from a very flashy entrance several days ago? Not really. She's one of my team mates for this big tournament that's going on.”

“You're... working together? An Inkling and the princess?” It was quite evident she was having a hard time picturing that.

“Sis, are you sure you don't want to join me?” Basic asked. “I promise you, you'll have fun taking part in Turf Wars! I can guarantee that no one would try to hurt you.”

“Basic... Thank you, but I... I don't think I'm quite ready for it, yet.”

Basic let out a sad sigh. “Alright, I'll drop it. Just... please give it some more thought. If it helps, the next round of the tournament is in two days.”

“Alright, I'll be sure to give it a look,” she replied. “I love you, Basic.”

Basic smiled. “Yeah. Love you too, Octi.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, Shades gets her character chapters. About time, I guess.  
> On top of that, there's now the possibility of infighting within Team SYG. What fun!  
> Still, it's kind of amazing how much I've made Basic a character. He was originally just a one off character for Timey to have a bit of interaction with back in chapter 5. Then, I went and added him to Bangaichi simply as team padding. Now look at him. I don't exactly play favourites with my squids and octos, but damn if Basic hasn't come a long way from the original plan.  
> Also, pissing off the nice guy was not a smart move by Rider. Just saying.  
> And so, with the truth lain bare (Lain? Laid? I dunno), we move on to the next.  
> Allons'y!


	11. Never Ready, but Never Waver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the tides of fate begin to spur, no one is ever truly prepared for what is to come. All we can do, however, is face the waves head on, and smile as they strike our legs.

To say that Team Bangaichi was not in high spirits would be an understatement. To call them 'felling a little blue' would be too weak. They were currently feeling absolutely miserable for themselves. The rainy weather right now was doing no one any favours, either.

“In the end,” Deej muttered, “our efforts amounted to jack shit.”

“We don't even know where she's gone off to,” Ahato followed up. “She just... up and vanished the moment the Squid Sisters turned their backs for a second.”

There was a dull thud of flesh hitting the wall. It was to no one's surprise that Timey was taking this the hardest out of everyone. “Damn it,” he murmured. “What the hell am I good for? I can't... I can't even help a friend in need.”

A sombre silence fell, diluted only by the sound of the rain.

“What's got you guys looking so glum?” the voice of Mesh spoke. Whilst it did catch them by surprise, Team Bangaichi didn't show it. “I mean, I get if it's the weather, but your match is gonna be indoors.”

“It's not that,” Eighter answered, facing the umbrella holding Inkling. “Our friend, Shades, is going through a rough time. We want to help her, but we can't even find her.”

“That's... wow,” Mesh said. And really, what else could she say? It was the day of the second round, the three matches that would have happened beforehand had to be pushed back, due to the weather, Bangaichi's round against Old-School Literature was in the next hour, and they were really worried about their friend. Mesh didn't really need the context -it wasn't her place to ask-, but still, she gave her sympathy to them. “I'm not sure what to say.”

“I failed her,” Timey muttered. “I was suppose to prove to her that she wasn't as bad as she thought she was, and I failed.”

“Is... he alright?” Mesh asked.

“He's taking this really personally,” Basic said. “Can't say I blame him for it, either. He just cares so much.”

“The downsides of sympathy,” Mesh mused. “Well, I'll just give you a heads-up about your next match, then. Team Old-School Literature has called in a sixth player.”

“Seriously?” Deej asked. “Why the heck would they do that? I thought they were...”

“Dunno for certain,” Mesh shrugged. “But, what I can tell you is that their new player's a giant squid.”

Basic's Splattershot Jr hit the ground at that moment. “A... giant squid? They're being allowed to play in this league?”

“Nothing's saying they can't.”

“Sorry, but what's a giant squid?” Eighter asked.

“Exactly what it says,” Basic said. “Imagine an Inkling roughly five times larger. The Splat Battle operators organised it so that they had a league of their own. Several blatant advantages and disadvantages with us playing together.”

“So, we're now fighting an uphill battle with a giant,” Ahato muttered. “Shit. Could this day get any worse?”

“Well, now that you've said it...”

“Excuse me?” a new voice spoke up. The group turned to the source, to see...

Headphones and Bobble Hat of Team SYG, thought they were noticeably not sporting the yellow-green colour -opting for a more primary blue.

“Just had to say it,” Ahato muttered bitterly. “I just had to freaking say it, didn't I?”

At that moment, most of those present quickly stood at attention. The two that didn't were Mesh, on account of being the non-combatant, and Timey, whom was more focused on beating himself up. “Alright, squiddo, what do you want?” Deej asked. “If you're here to cause us more stress, then get to the back of the line and wait your turn.”

Headphones, who was looking particularly nervous, took a small step forward. “I just... want to say something. I promise I'll be out of your way afterwards.” There was something about how she said that, which caught them off guard. Enough that Timey stopped brooding for a moment to access the situation. Headphones took a few steps forward, standing face to face with Timey. At that moment, Timey really noticed that she was surprisingly tall. Not quite taller than himself of Deej, mind, but not far off. “I just... wanted to say...” Her voice began to trail off. Nerves must have been getting the better of her. After a deep breath, she shouted. “I'm sorry!” The shout had enough force that any lesser squid would have been blown off their feet. “I... We, were wrong. You're... not Goggles, and we... I...”

Timey was quite caught off guard by this. He cast a quick look to Bobble Hat, who nodded to confirm the honesty of Headphones' statement. Well, only one thing to do in this situation. “It's alright,” he said kindly. “You were grieving. Still are, I'm guessing. I can't truly blame you for reaching the conclusions you did.”

“But..!” Headphones cried. “But that doesn't... doesn't change the fact that we...”

“You're right; it doesn't,” Timey agreed, “but what's important is that we're learning. Growing. Mistakes were realised, and action is being taken to correct them.”

Headphones tried to say more, but Deej cut in. “You'd best just take it, kid,” he said. “Timey's in his 'forgiving' mind set, now. Once he goes for that, there ain't no going back, so you're best of just accepting it and moving on.” There was a slight pause, before Deej suddenly looked like he had just trodden on someones tail. “That could have been phrased better.”

“But the point was still made,” Eighter chimed in. “If anything, this is some of the better news we've heard in the past few days.”

“Really says something about our standards,” Ahato commented. “And about a lot of things these days.”

Timey gave a small chuckle. The first he'd had in days. “Still, Headphones. Thank you. I think... I really needed that.”

“We all did,” Ahato added. “So, what do ya plan to do now? Can't imagine Rider'll be happy with ya.”

“We'll have to do what we must,” Bobble Hat said. “We'll try to convince him with words, but if that doesn't work, then... we'll have to take it to the turf.”

Mesh let out a whoop of excitement. “Now that's the kind of fire I like to see!” she shouted, before turning to Timey. “So, Mr Leader, ready to face your own destiny?”

Timey nodded. “Yeah, I'm ready.” He turned to his team mates. “Bangaichi, let's move out!”

* * *

  
  


Goby Arena was the stage set for them. Decently sized, at that, and kept out of the rain.

As Team Bangaichi spawned in, they immediately noticed their opposition, and their new plus one.

First off, their usual team members. First their was Moni, dressed as she was two days ago, and carrying a Hydra Splatling. Next was Drive -wearing the Annaki Drive Tee, Camping Hat, Armour Boots Replica, and holding the Grim Range Blaster-, followed by Anchor -Anchor Sweat, Designer Headphones, Black Trainers, and Goo Tuber-, Sunny -Sunny Day Tee, Fake Contacts, Black Flip-Flops, and Kensa Splattershot Pro-, and Carrot -Zekko Long Carrot Tee, House-Tag Denim Cap, Flip Floppers, and Undercover Brella-. They alone looked quite formidable.

The Giant Squid with them, though, gave fear a whole new meaning.

He was a massive, nine foot tall, muscle bound behemoth of an Inkling, going by the name of Devil, dressed in the Chilli Octo Aloha, Lil Devil Horns, Moist Ghillie Boots (all of which in sizes that fit), and his weapon of choice was...

Six Dynamo Rollers. Held one between each finger like claws. Good lord, man, haven't you heard of moderation?

“We're screwed, aren't we?” Ahato asked. “I mean, who deals with someone that large? Why is he that large?”

“Nature,” Timey said plainly. In the distance, he noticed Moni walking calmly towards centre stage. “Hold here for a tick, I'll be right back.”

A quick super jump later, and Timey was once again face to face with Moni.

“So, she didn't show up,” she noted sadly. “I'm... not really surprised.”

“Sorry. We tried, really,” Timey bowed as he spoke. “I guess... we're going to have to go through this the hard way, then.”

“Sorry, Timey. It... really is nothing personal,” Moni said. “I just... want to close the book on this part of my life. If I need to use that wish to do it, then...”

“I understand,” Timey nodded. “If anything, should you beat us, I reckon we'd be willing to throw in with your lot. We may have a use for the wish ourselves, but our first order of business is to keep it from Team SYG. And, if we do beat you here, then I promise...” He held his left hand out to Moni, “that you and Shades will get the closure you two deserve. I swear on my life.”

Moni looked slightly flabbergasted for a moment, before giggling. “You know, I thought it was you,” she muttered, taking his hand. “Well, I guess I'll hold you to it, then, Koyo Raito.”

Timey blinked in confusion, as they broke the handshake. “What does...” He couldn't get another word in, before Moni super jumped back to her team spawn. “Koyo Raito... I know that's Octarian, but for what?” Shaking his head, he jumped back to spawn.

“Now that's the sort of sportsmanship we like to see!” Mesh's voice echoed through the arena. “A sombre battle with no animosity whatsoever, where both victors and losers can get something out of any outcome. Why is it we can't have more of this without all the emotional turmoil that kicks it off? Without further ado, let's get ready to rumble!!!”

“Alright, hero, what's the plan?” Ahato asked.

“Take middle, and keep it,” Timey said plainly. “I'm no strategist like Shades, so that's the best I've got.”

“Guess it'll do,” Deej stated, twirling his... were those Glooga Dualies? Come to think of it, Eighter had switched out for the Ballpoint Splatling, and Basic had upgraded to an Aerospray. Guess it was time of a switch up.

The buzzer sounded, and the game began.

* * *

  
  


While Bangaichi began their match, and Team Idol-lescense watched from the audience, Shades kept herself huddled up by the Cuttlefish Shack down in Octo Canyon.

Of course, that wasn't to say that this was where she had been the entire time. She wasn't so careless as to stay in one obvious spot for two days.

Really, she had only been here for the last hour, before the match started. Not enough time for Octavio to get the word out.

Speaking of whom.

“Are ya really just gonna keep running?” the Octarian king asked.

“Shut it, DJ,” Shades spat sombrely, eyes glued to the TV.

“Oh Jesus Carp, girl. Pull yourself together!” Octavio shouted. “Those are ya friends out there! How is it that ya don't care?!”

“I...” She paused. “I don't... do friends...” The way she said that was more to convince herself, if anything.

“Well, news flash, squiddo! They don't care about that!” Octavio slammed his tentacle against the inside of the dome. “They don' exactly care that you don't think of them as your friends, because they sure as hell think that way of you! I mean, just look at the size of that lad their facing!” As if to emphasise his point, the TV showed a scene of the giant squid Devil lobbing one of his Dynamo's like some kind of tomahawk, narrowly missing Deej by a small margin. “It don't matter if you don't think they're your friends, kid, because they sure as hell think you are! Now pull your Cod damn head out of your beak, and at least try to prove to yaself that you're a better person!”

“Don't act like you know me, Octavio!” Shades shouted. “You know nothing of what I've been through! So don't... act so...” her voice began to die down, as she struggled to even convince herself.

“Oh, for the love of...” Octavio muttered, and with a swift punch, shattered his glass prison. Before Shades could so much as react, Octavio shifted into his Octoling form, grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, and slammed his head against hers, with the added bonus of leaving a crack in her Aviators. “Will you shut up already?!” he shouted, echoing all across the canyon. “You keep going on and on about how much of an asshole you are, yet you forget who you're talking to! Every time we've fought, you kept going on and on about how you'nd I are night and day, and ya know what? You're right! Unlike me, you actually have remorse for your assholish tendencies! At the end of the day, though, I'm still right! You're not 'just like me'; you're better than me! You can prove our differences can be set aside! Now pull your thumb out, grab your shit, and get. To. That. Arena! THAT'S AN ORDER! UNDERSTAND?!”

Shades was far too afraid from all the sudden yelling to even respond, yet alone argue. With a sudden salute, she quickly made her way through the grating.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Octavio slumped into the couch. “Cod, just look at me,” he muttered. “Giving life advice to my mortal enemies. Getting chummy with them... When did I become such a sap?”

“Yer tellin' me,” an additional, familiar voice spoke. Octavio took a sidelong glance over his shoulder, to see an all too familiar old Inkling.

“Where the heck have you been, Craig?” he asked. “Ya've been gone for what, a month now?”

“Ah, lay off,” Captain Craig Cuttlefish replied, taking a seat next to the DJ. “If ya must know, I've been helpin' other Octarians migrate to the surface with Sheldon. No fan of the Squid Sisters is a foe of mine. I don't see species.”

“You know, you say that, but during the war your aim was particularly Octo focused.”

“Different times, 'Tavio,” Craig shrugged. “After all, here you are giving Inklings pep-talks.”

“Touche, you old fool.” The duo turned their attention back to the TV. “I wonder. Will that kid make it?”

* * *

  
  


Things were not looking Team Bangaichi's way at the moment.

The match had reached half-time, and they were nowhere close to holding centre stage. They had roughly 4/10 of the stage at best. The sort of pressure Team Old-School Literature was putting on them was astounding, to say the least.

Not to put lesser value on the rest of the team, but among them, the giant squid Devil was, by far, the biggest threat, no pun intended. It took the combined efforts of Ahato, Eighter, and Basic, just to splat him once. Devil had only been splatted that one time during the entire match. Giant squids had stupid amounts of health, after all.

So, while Deej led the distraction with the others, Timey had been put in charge of base infiltration and general distractioning. That wasn't a real word, but it worked for its cause.

Unfortunately for him, though, Moni had predicted that, so while the rest of her team was duking it out with the rest of his, the two of them were currently cover shooting each other on the upper left area.

Also, Moni's Hydra was modified for a faster charge time. What fun.

Taking a deep breath, Timey ducked out of cover once the Hydra's charge died down, and fired off a few burst shots. All missed. “You know, for a heavy weapon user, you're awfully nimble.”

“Well, I had a lot of training,” Moni shouted back. “Besides, you Inklings are a little too lax in your efforts.”

“Don't blame us for that,” Timey replied defensively. “Peace makes it easier to lose muscle mass.”

“True, I guess.” A Splat Bomb was lobbed Timey's way. He barely got out of the way before it blew, yet he was now left wide open. “But that complacency will be even your downfall!”

Timey cursed himself. There wasn't going to be enough time to dodge, or to put up a Splash Wall. What to do, what to do.

As it would turn out, fate had other plans. A familiar pole fell right in front of him, and the subsequent ink jets it produced blocked the Hydra shots milliseconds before they struck.

The super jump indicator flashed at Timey's feet, and a second later, an all too familiar Inkling landed. “Sha...”

Barely a word in, before she shoved him off the ledge, and dived to cover as the Splash Wall broke.

Moni looked in surprise, as Shades stepped out of the cover, Bloblobber in hand. “Shades,” she muttered. “Is that...”

With nary a word, Shades tossed aside the Bloblobber, shot into the air, and activated Splashdown, slamming about a foot away from Moni. Close enough to do damage, but not enough to splat. Following up, she manifested an Ultra Stamp, and used it to swat the Hydra from Moni's hands. She would have brought it down again, but a quick Burst Bomb knocked the Stamp from her own hands. “Shades, what's going on?” Moni asked. “I get that you...”

Shades gritted her teeth, and, manifesting her Specials again, pulled out not one, but two Sting Rays. “How about you stop trying to talk and HIT ME!” she shouted, firing both Sting Rays. “Fight back, damn it!”

Moni girded herself. The Sting Rays were firing in such a way that she could effectively run up to Shades right here and now. But, the small voice in the back of her head told her it might be a trap.

Barely a second later, she disregarded that voice, sprinted, and decked Shades in the face. The knockback was enough that the Sting Rays dissipated immediately. Shades regained her footing, though. “Is that all you've got?!” she shouted again, swinging a punch of her own.

Miss, and immediate counter. The crack on her glasses enlarging with the force of the blow.

From below, Timey could only really watch in shock and horror. “Shades, what the hell are you doing?” he called to deaf ears.

All sound died in the crowd. The battles that had been going on on the other side of the stage came to a halt, as all eyes fell to this one sided slug fest.

A strong punch knocked Shades off her feet, and half of her right lens fell out. Moni looked at the state of Shades spitting out a little blood in abject horror. “Why?” she asked. “Why are you...”

“Would you... stop talking already?” Shades muttered, wobbling to her feet. “I'm not here... for some half-assed apology. I'm here... to put an end to this!” Shades charged once again, and was met face to fist by Moni in retaliation.

Shades was knocked to her back, the Aviators flying off and landing in pieces a ways away. “Why?” Moni asked tearfully. “Why are you doing this... while you're crying?”

It was noticeable the moment the lens first broke. Throughout all of this, Shades had been biting back her own tears, right up until now.

“I told you,” she muttered, “I didn't want... some half-assed apology. This was... the right way to do it.”

“How? How was this right?”

“Because... it's what I deserve. For what I did.” The tears fell freely as she spoke. “I was just... some no good bitch. I hurt you... all because of some damn upbringing. I...” a sob broke through her voice. “I didn't deserve you, Moni. You were...” she placed her arm over her eyes. “You were too good for an ass like me.”

In that moment, the past minute made complete sense. All this was just a ploy for Shades to get what she feels she deserved.

At that moment, Moni ran over to Shades, picked her up in as tight a hug as she could manage, and broke down into sobs. “I... I could never hate you...” he managed to say.

“...Why?” Shades asked. “I... I treated you... so badly. How could you... not hate me?” It was here that the dam broke for her, and Shades broke down into loud cries.

From his spot, Timey watched. What does one do now? He took a look at the others, and noticed the rest of Team Old-School Literature discussing something, nodding, then... signalling their surrender?

“I... guess that's the game, then?” Mesh spoke, equally bemused. “I... what even happened? I've... actually got nothing constructive to say right now.”

“Preaching to the coir there, Mesh,” Timey muttered.

* * *

  
  


An hour after the match had ended, the rain finally let up. Shades found herself sitting on a lone bench, holding the remains of her coveted Aviators. It was strange how... liberating it felt, holding them here like this.

She felt someone sit down next to her. Taking a side-ward glance, Shades locked eyes with Moni.

“Hey,” the Octoling said quietly.

“Hey,” she replied bashfully. “I must look a mess to you, huh?”

“Kinda,” Moni admitted, “but no more than when I last saw you.” A pause, before both of them began laughing.

Shades let out a small sigh. “You know, I still remember the times we use to laugh like this, without a care in the world,” she muttered. “I... really wish we could go back to those days.”

“So do I,” Moni agreed, “but... I know it can't happen. You have someone else, after all.” Shades baulked in surprise, and fumbled with her words. “Timey told me, two days ago. I'm... happy for you.”

“But...” Shades stuttered, “but that doesn't...”

“Please. Don't... try to make it better,” Moni interrupted. “In Octarian society, we soldier class citizens don't even have such a thing as significant others. I couldn't dream of... of being able to share with another.” There was a sorrowful pause. “Tell me, Shades. When you look at me, what do you feel?”

Shades took a deep breath before answering. “Love,” she said. “I feel love. Always have, and always will.”

“Is that right,” Moni muttered. “I guess, this just makes this all the harder, then.”

“But...”

“Okay, I've heard just about enough,” a new voice cut in, and from on high, a white tentacled Inkling dropped.

“Wha... Marie?” Shades called in surprise. “What are you..?”

“Wait, you're dating _Marie_? Of the Squid Sisters?” Moni shouted. “Oh Cod, I knew I never had a chance, but...”

“There ain't no chances to be had, girlfriend. You're both coming with me,” Marie said plainly, hoisting them both over her shoulders by their collars.

Both Moni and Shades let out sounds of confusion, though Moni more than Shades. “But... what?”

“Moni, was it?” Marie spoke. “You've been in our society for what, two years now? And you haven't learned that we Inklings are quite happy to have multiple partners? Heck, some even have straight up open relationships.”

“What? But that's just... what?”

“Look, long story short? I'm planning to keep you two together, without losing Shades myself. So, if that means I make you my girl as well, then Cod damn it I'll do it. What do I have to lose? Heck, what do any of us have to lose?”

Moni looked at Shades in absolute bewilderment. “Best not to argue with her,” Shades said rather embarrassingly. “She's... incredibly forceful when she wants to be. Once she's set her mind on something, there's no going back.”

“This is what you were trying to tell me?” Moni asked, to which Shades nodded. “But... I mean, Marie barely even knows me! In fact, I think the most she knows is that I punched you an hour ago! A lot!”

“Then we'd best get started learning about each other, huh?” Marie said. “We've a ways to go before we reach the apartment, so let's get chatting.”

* * *

  
  


From a top a building along the way, Timey sat and watched the whole thing play out, a small smile upon his face.

“Well, at least that went well,” he muttered. “Thank Cod for Marie's forceful side.”

“With you on that one, bub,” a voice he did not recognise said. Looking behind himself, Timey was met with one of the other members of Team Old-School Literature.

“You were... Sunny, right?” Timey asked.

“Das me,” she replied. “So, good ol' Shades was dating a Squid Sister, huh? Colour me surprised.”

“I'm sure most people would,” Timey agreed. “Still, I'm kinda surprised Moni didn't know about the whole relationship thing with Inklings.”

“I know!” Sunny exclaimed. “Heck, the girls and I even told her outright about it, and she just thought it was us trying to make her feel better! It's like; sweetheart, I know you're sad, but the truth is still the truth!”

“Oh, I freaking feel that,” Timey muttered. “Still, I must say I wasn't expecting you to just... surrender like that.”

“It was kinda in our plan to begin with,” Sunny answered. “We were in this for the sole purpose of getting to see Shades again. One way or the other, something like this was bound to happen.” Sunny turned her attention to the sky. “Still, it'll be kinda sad without Moni as our leader.”

“Hold up, Moni's not going to be your leader after this?”

“It was her call,” Sunny replied. “Said she wanted a fresh start after all was said and done.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Timey shrugged. “But what do the rest of your team plan to do now?”

“Choose a new leader, then get back to it, I guess,” Sunny said. “All we can do is move forward.”

“Guess so,” he agreed. “If I can just say; I'm glad you were such good friends to your leader.”

“If 'you' can say? I'm the one who should be saying that!” Sunny retorted. “So, thanks for being a good friend to Shades. Cod knows she needed one.”

“What do you mean 'one'? There's like, four other people just in our team, and that's just lowballing how many of us care.”

“Fair point, that,” Sunny conceded. “Well, I'd best get going. Ain't gonna be able to decide a new leader without me there, after all.”

“Ah, the powers of democracy,” Timey mused. “Well, you take care of yourself.”

“Right back at you, bud. Don't go getting yourself killed, and be sure to look after Moni for us.”

Timey gave a mock salute, as Sunny took her leave. Now left alone with his own thoughts once more, Timey felt something in the back of his mind click. “You know, our team name actually does make some form of sense.”

“ _What do you mean?”_ Tartar asked, stepping out of the dark corner of Timey's mind.

“Well, our team name is Bangaichi, right? I'm just saying, it actually fits us quite well.”

“ _Then you're going to have to elaborate a bit,”_ Tartar continued, _“because I'm not exactly fluent in either of your languages.”_

“Well, 'Bangaichi' actually comes from an old human language. Heck, Inkarian and Octarian both derive from different human languages. To my knowledge, 'Bangaichi' in one of the human tongues and Octarian mean the same thing: Nowhere.”

Tartar hummed in interest. _“So Octarian derives from Japanese, then. Interesting. Also, that makes you Team Nowhere?”_

“Basically,” Timey replied. “I mean, think about it. Our team comp is three Octolings who migrated surface side, myself -who is being mistaken for someone who's dead-, and Shades -with her low opinion on herself-. In fact, the only one who doesn't quite fit our bill is Basic, and considering his sister's been surface side for longer than most Octolings, he probably fits in by proxy.”

“ _So, a team that ended up building itself around the idea of having nowhere else to go, but to each other,”_ Tartar said with a small chuckle. _“You know, it really is quite fitting.”_

“Glad you agree,” Timey said, standing up. “Now, the next matches should be starting up. How about we see how well Rider's team does when they're two players down?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say that, after all this, I really, really, just want to give Shades a nice big hug.  
> I can safely say I'm not the biggest fan of writing these downer thing, doubly so when there's so much swearing. I mean, these characters are basically my children! But, sometimes, these things are needed.  
> I'm actually more surprised I let myself drop 'bitch' in my writing, rather than try to find a lower rated work around.  
> Needless to say, we press forward.  
> Allons'y!


	12. Sing for your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say actions speak louder than words, yet it is through the song which hearts truly connect.

Rider found himself slumped against the first wall he found that day. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally.

Just yesterday, they had barely managed to squeeze a victory out against Team Unseen University. Those seven squids were veritable wizards on the field, and if it wasn't for the speeds that Gloves and Prinz could reach with their Dualies, then they might have actually lost. That Carbon Roller user of their team was absolute dynamite.

What didn't help them was that Bobble Hat and Headphones had dropped off the team. What were they thinking? Don't they remember that this was to get their team back together?

What was going on in the world right now? Everything was just falling apart, and he couldn't find anything to blame for it.

Except, maybe, Team Bangaichi.

Everything was just hunky dory before they showed up on the scene. Who the heck even were they?People that skilled don't just show up out of the blue. The way the likes of Eighter, Ahato, Deej, and Shades carried themselves on the battlefield, you'd've thought they were Rank S+ or something, yet according to their records, they're only ranked B to B+, with Ahato being a C-. That girl could snipe a can off Moray Towers' peak from the Manta Maria, standing on one hand, backwards, and blindfolded. How was she only C-?

And then there was their 'leader', whom was calling himself 'Timey'.

Rider wasn't sure who was trying to fool who here, but there was no way in hell that wasn't Goggles. They looked too alike to be a coincidence. Those people did something to him, he was sure of it. But how was he going to prove it, yet alone undo it?

“Well, you certainly seem to be in a pickle,” someone said. Rider pivoted around, to be met with a large, cloaked figure. “Perhaps I might be of assistance to you.”

“And you are?” Rider asked.

“Let's say 'a concerned citizen',” the man answered. “You and I were wronged by the same people. I'm unable to take direct action against them, but if you want, I could provide you with the tools to do that.”

You know that small voice in your head that tells you 'this is a terrible idea'? Yeah, Rider doesn't have one at the moment. His was taking an extended vacation to 'nopes-ville'. “I'm listening,” he said.

Rider couldn't see it through the shroud, but the man bore a toothy, golden grin. “Glad to hear it, Rider,” he spoke. “What I have to offer for you are weapons. Not inherently legal for real Turf Wars, but right now, I doubt that matters. I have a special Roller, Dualies, and Charger to lend you for your plight. What do you say?”

The man held his hand out, and Rider took it. “I say it's a deal.”

* * *

  
  


The trio of Timey, Ahato, and Deej all sat around a free table, and pondered their options.

“So, I know we managed to get through yesterday's issues,” Deej muttered, “but why does it feel like we still have unfinished business?”

“Because we're only half done, my friend,” Timey replied, tenting his hands. “While Shades has managed to make peace with her past, to an extent, we fear that she may still hold some doubts about her present day relations with us.”

“Didn't have to say it so convolutedly, but that's basically it,” Ahato agreed. “I mean, lets face it, she might think we resent her in some way.”

“Somehow I doubt that much,” Deej said, “but I do agree that we should do something... more.”

“But what?” Timey asked. “Let's face it, we're a bunch of soldiers and turfers. What could we possibly bring to the table that can make someone feel better?”

There was a slight pause, before Deej made a suggestion. “How about a song?” he said. “Let's face it, we've got ties to the music industry for days.”

“That's... actually not a bad idea,” Timey admitted. “Just one problem, though; how are we going to write this song? You're the only lyricist we know and, no offence, but your work's kinda... iffy.”

“Harsh, dude.”

Ahato mused for a second, before an idea struck. “How about we try redoing one of your other songs, then?” she suggested. “Love did tell me that there were only a few aspects of your songs that people had problems with, yet they still enjoy them. I've the skills to remix things, so maybe that would work?”

Timey and Deej stewed on the idea for a moment. “You know, I like the sound of that,” Timey concluded. “Perhaps what Deej's music really needs is an extra set of ears to get the genre right.”

“T-dog, as your friend and Shades', I'm all for this idea,” Deej said, “but as a professional creator, I take offence to that.”

“Ah, you've got thick skin,” Ahato waved off. “Now, what tracks ya got?”

Deej pulled his phone out. “Well, let's have a look-see,” he said, tapping away at the screen. “How about this one? 'Lightning Heart'? Personally, I think it's one of my better works.”

Timey and Ahato listened carefully to the song that played. Once it stopped, it was time to workshop. “Well, I can safely say the message is what we want,” Timey started, “but something about it... It's just not flowing right.”

“Really? That's the best answer you've got?” Ahato said flatly. “The problem is that the message is being told in the wrong genre.”

“What'chu talkin' 'bout, princess?” Deej asked.

“What am I... Are you daft or something? You're rapping a song that is clearly intended to be poppy! You're works not bad, just fundamentally wrong!”

A silence fell over the trio. “You know, I hadn't thought about it like that,” Timey mumbled. “Replace the beatboxing with an upbeat guitar and light piano, some drums here and there, an electric guitar during the chorus, and I think we'd actually have something.”

“Much as it pains my pride to admit it, it really does sound like it'd work,” Deej conceded.

“We'll also want to rename the song, I reckon,” Ahato pointed out. “'Lightning Heart' ain't that great a name. How does 'Light Your Heart Up' sound?”

Metaphorical gears began to turn. “Yes...” Deej muttered quietly, before shooting to his feet. “YES! We have struck musical gold!”

Timey pulled his phone out quickly. “I'm going to make some calls. Secure instruments and all that. Deej, Ahato, you two round up Eighter and Basic. We'll get this done and perform by this afternoon, by jove!”

At that moment, Timey sprinted off, phone against his ear, leaving Deej to text away, and Ahato looking absolutely bemused.

“What the actual hell just happened?”

* * *

  
  


Bounding around the corner, Timey listened to the ringing of his phone, until it was answered. “Cal, it's me,” he said quickly.

“Tee? What's up?” Callie answered. “You sound... energetic, I guess? Did something happen?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “We've got a plan to help Shades feel better, but we need instruments. Can you secure us an acoustic guitar, a keyboard, an electric guitar, a drum kit, and a sound system for this afternoon?”

“Oh, that's easy!” Callie said. “You at least got a song for it? Marie and I could lend you a few we've workshopped.”

“No need, we've got that covered. Meet me at Arowana as soon as you can. Love ya!” With that, he hung up, and switched his phone over to the group chat.

**Tenta-fool:** Arowana as soon as everyone can.

**Three_O'Clock:** Copy that!

**Dedf1sh:** Roger!

**Agent_Octopod:** Ahato just informed me. I'll be there.

**Basic:** Might take me a bit to get there. Currently on the other side of Port Mackerel visiting my sister.

Timey bore a small smirk as he put his phone away. It was kind of interesting to learn that Basic actually lived in one of the suburbs close to Inkopolis, but what really warmed him was this strong sense of unity they had. It wasn't the fact that they could meet up at the drop of a hat, but the fact that they cared enough to do the next best thing.

Turning the next corner, the back of his mind registered, among other things, the presence of Rider, whom was holding some sort of large duffle bag. Were this any other day, Timey might has actually registered and addressed Rider in some way. This, however, was not one of those days.

Timey was fairly certain Rider said something in surprise. He couldn't say with absolute certainty, though. Really not wanting to deal with any further conversation though, Timey super jumped towards the wall, and began running along it. “Don't got time for your stuff, Rider!” he shouted to the other Inkling. “Got more important things to deal with today!”

Leaping out of the alley way, Timey came to a quick stop about eight feet up a building wall, and began using his fingers as make-shift framing devices to aim. “Let's see... about thirteen degrees up, twenty-one to the left... carry the five for wind... got it.” And like that, he super jumped once more, launching off into the distance.

* * *

  
  


Within a small suburb down way of Port Mackerel, there existed a quaint little house, belonging to a small family of four. For most hours of most days, half of the usual residents were at work, and one quarter of them participating in Turf Wars, so for the most part, there was only ever one person inside all day.

It was that single person that Basic was here to see today.

Unlocking the door, Basic stepped inside. “Sis? You home?” he called out.

Much to his surprise (but not really), the sound of sudden crashing echoed through the house. His sister wasn't one for being surprised, after all. “Are you okay up there?” he asked.

“I'm fine! Totally fine!” came her reply. Basic let out an amused sigh as she finally jogged down the stairs.

Octi was an Octoling on the older side of things. While most Inklings and Octolings that Basic knew were around 14 to 19 year old range, Octi was sitting at 21 years of age. She was a pale skinned, tall individual, with her tentacles kept in that classic Octarian style that was best described as 'poofy', and dressed in the Crustwear XXL, Full Moon Glasses, and the Grizzco Friendship Bracelet, if only for the sake of not wearing actual shoes (In her own words: “I've spent my entire life being forced to wear heavy boots. Let my toes be free!”).

“Another stumble?” Basic asked.

“K... kinda,” Octi said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. Shaking that off, she quickly wrapped her brother in a tight hug. “A...anyway! Welcome back, Basic!”

Basic chuckled lightly. “I only called you two days ago, Octi. It hasn't been that long.”

“Still!”

“You really need to get out more, Sis.”

Octi pouted cutely. “How rude. I was actually planning a small trip to the mall today, too.”

“Arowana?” Basic asked, to which Octi nodded. “That's a coincidence. I was actually going to meet up with those friends of mine there later today.”

“Y... you were?” Octi asked in surprise. “Umm... maybe I should rescedule...”

“Come on, Octi. It'll be alright,” Basic reassured. “They'd love to meet you, I'm sure of it!”

“Oh no. I can't! Not when the princess is with them!”

_'So, it's still about Miss Ahato, then,'_ Basic thought. “Sis, I assure you, there won't be any problems if you meet them. In fact, I can 100% guarentee that, if they do end up recognising you, they'll react positively to you. Turfers honour!” He made sure to flash as confident a smile as he could muster. Considering the people he had been around for the past few weeks, it worked quite well.

“Well... if you're sure,” Octi finally conceded. “Just... I don't know...”

“Tell you what,” Basic said, “if I'm wrong, I'll eat my shirt. How about that?”

Now, for the likes of humans, that saying wouldn't mean much. However, in the case of Inklings, where some of them are named after their shirts and jackets, to say you'll 'eat your shirt' or whatever gear piece you share a name with is a sign of genuine intent. It would be like saying 'if I'm wrong, then I'll un-person myself'.

Octi always felt the littlest bit blown away whenever Basic used that line, if only because every time he did, he turned out to be right. “I... alright. I'll trust you on this. Just... Mind if I have a minute to prepare?”

“Of course,” Basic said with a smile. “Take as long as you need.”

* * *

  
  


As it turned out, Callie, Eighter, Deej, and Ahato were the first to arrive at the meeting point. Deej personally wondered how Timey didn't beat them there, considering he had a massive head start.

After a good few minutes of waiting and tinkering with the instruments Callie brought, Timey finally landed. “Sorry I took so long,” he said. “I went and overshot my jump. Twice.”

“Seriously, dude? Twice?” Deej asked. “You had a head start, and everything, and you went and missed the mark twice?”

“Seriously, Tee, that's so like you,” Callie said. “You've got to remember that some places aren't as far as you expect. Heck, here's only a train ride away from the Square.”

“Yes, but I really much prefer jumping from place to place,” Timey explained. “The feeling of wind against my tentacles is really quite addicting.”

Ahato took a look around. “The kid still not here yet?” she asked, referring to Basic.

“He said he was visiting family, so he might take a while,” Timey replied.

“Or not,” Basic spoke up, timing it absolutely perfectly. “Sorry if we're late. Sis wanted to have a quick look at the stores we passed.”

The quintet turned to face Basic, and noticed the Octoling girl hiding behind him timidly. “Ah, so you must be the sister we've heard so much about,” Callie said, approaching casually. “Name's Callie, but you probably already knew that.” She held a hand out to her. “Put 'er there!”

The Octoling flinched at the sudden hand, but gingerly shook it in return. “N... nice to meet you, too...” she said in a small voice.

Ahato raised a brow. “You seem familiar,” she noticed, as she made her way around Basic. The moment the Octoling realised that Ahato had done so, it was too late to try and hide. “I knew it!” Ahato exclaimed. “Octi! Cod damn, you're still alive!”

Octi let out a small 'eep'. “H... hello... Princess... Ahato,” she said in a terrified voice.

“C'mere, you culinary calamity!” Ahato slung an arm around Octi's shoulders. “I just knew you couldn't have died! How in the hell did you survive that dome drop? And you managed to get a family, too? Damn, you're lucky as always!”

Octi sputtered out several sounds of surprise, fear, and confusion. “Um, Miss Ahato?” Basic spoke up. “I think you're scaring my sister.”

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, backing off. “Just... y'know, glad to see ya again, Octi.”

“H... hmm. Good... to see you too,” Octi responded.

“Man, it really is a small world,” Deej stated. “I mean, who would have thought that Ol' Octi would be Basic's sis?”

“It really is,” Eighter added. “Really makes you wonder what's next, doesn't it?”

* * *

  
  


“Anyway, Mr Timey, why are we here right now?” Basic asked, after some brief conversation and introducing Octi to everyone.

“Simple, really,” Timey said, patting the stack of instruments. “We're going to perform a song for Shades.”

“A song?” Basic asked for confirmation. “Do we at least have something to play?”

“'Hato and I got that covered before we got here,” Deej said. “Even been planning out who's on what.”

“So we'll keep this quick, since we want to play by this afternoon,” Ahato followed up. “Deej is on drums, I'm on keyboard, Hero's on electric guitar, you're on regular guitar, and Love's on vocals.”

“Wait,” Eighter spoke up, “why am I vocals?”

“Because you have the best voice out of us that aren't a professional idol,” Ahato explained. “I've heard you in the shower, Love, and back in the day, you always said you had a dream of singing to a crowd.”

“I did?” Eighter wondered. “Well, regardless, if it's for Shades, I'll do it.”

“Well, they might need it,” Callie said. “I've been texting with Marie all day, and apparently things there are super awkward. Absolutely no one knows what to talk about, or how their new relationship is going to work.”

“Then we've got no time to waste,” Timey concluded. “Everyone, grab an instrument. We're going trial by fire for this.”

* * *

  
  


The trio of Marie, Shades, and Moni walked through the streets in an awkward silence. In Marie's case, it was 'how the heck am I to talk to my new girlfriend, who was also my girlfriends ex?'. For Shades, it was 'Where do I even start? I feel so guilty about what happened.', and for Moni, it was 'How the heck did this happen?'

So yeah, a very awkward silence. No one knew how to open a conversation at the moment. At least, until they saw the large crowd on the outskirts of Arowana Mall.

“Wonder what's going on there?” Marie spoke.

“Good question,” Moni replied. “Don't think there's a new game out, and I'm pretty sure we'd know if Off the Hook released a new single.”

“A sale, maybe?” Shades suggested. It was a suggestion that was quickly shot down when they got closer, and saw a band setting up. A band, mind you, that consisted of several familiar faces.

“Hey,” Moni said, “isn't that your team over there?”

“Yup.”

“What do you think they're doing?”

“Not a clue.” And wasn't that the truth.

Then, though, the guitar and keyboard started playing.

**(Track set: Light your heart up, by Aimee Blackshleger)**

It started very lightly, before the drums kicked in, giving a stronger beat. Followed by none other than Eighter starting to sing.

“ _Cuz I see you feeling down, I will try to calm and fade it,_ ” she began in a voice that was, admittedly, very good. “ _But you don't wanna turn around, Teenagers, so complicated._ ”

“Is... she singing about you?” Moni asked.

“I... I dunno,” Shades replied. Her brain wasn't sure, but something deep within was beginning to stir with the song.

“ _Come on, come on, ain't no one who can take your place, Oh baby. Please let me see you smiling._

“ _It's such a pain in the neck, We have homework by tomorrow. I know you're not a person who would be worn out with sorrow._

“ _To fly away from your past is not so easy, but dizzy._ ”

The moment the chorus kicked in, that stirring feeling became an ember.

“ _Keep your faith, raise your lively face!_

“ _Just get rid of your broken wings, You're strong enough by now!_

“ _I'll be your spark, when you're lost in the dark. So let me be your sun, be your match to_

“ _Light your heart up!_ ”

That ember soon became a fire, and before she knew it, tears had started to fall.

“Shades?” Moni spoke up. “Are you alright?”

“I...” What was she to say? There was just so much... emotion, welling up inside. Was this what the Octolings felt when they first heard the Inkantation? It was like... something was awakening within her. “Marie, Moni,” she managed to croak out. “There's... something I need to say.”

“ _Beside you leads a winding road, there some troubles make you stumble._

“ _But you were gonna beat them all. Loner girl is hard to crumble._ ”

“What's up, Shades?” Marie asked.

“ _I know, I know, ain't no one who can touch your heart, but baby,_

“ _Please let me see you crying._ ”

“I... I don't know if... I've ever said this, but I...” A lump formed in the back of her throat. _'Come on, Shades! Just a few words!'_ she chastised herself internally.

“ _Your sword is bare, why don't we ditch that class it's time to chill out._

“ _I know you're not a person who would get excited and shout._

“ _The sky above your thick cloud is not so gritty, but pretty._ ”

“I... I love you both! More than I know how to say!” she shouted. “I... if it weren't for you both, or for my team, then I... I don't think I'd... I'd...”

There was a loss of words. She wanted to say 'not be here to enjoy days like this', but found herself unable to finish the sentence.

While slightly taken aback by the declaration (to the point where the usually in control Marie had a light blush), Marie and Moni shared a look, and proceeded to embrace Shades. “Come on, no need for tears,” Marie said softly.

“She's right, Shades,” Moni followed up, as the song dipped into its final verse. “If it wasn't for you, I'd never have found a place to belong at all.”

“But... but I...”

“ _Sing it now, sing it loud!_ ”

“Besides, we're not the ones you need to tell this to,” Marie added, as she and Moni lifted Shades above their heads.

“ _I'm your buddy, all the way. You may thank me day by day!”_

“Wait, what are you...”

**(End track)**

She tried to ask a moment too late. As the song ended, Moni and Marie tossed Shades towards Eighter, and what followed could only be described in the span of a few short moments.

Moment 1: Eighter bent over backwards, a la Matrix bullet dodge.

Moment 2: Eighter wrapped her arms around Shades as she flew over.

Moment 3: Eighter kicked off the ground, and did a flip while holding Shades, because why not.

Moment 4: Land.

Was it over the top? Yes. Was it absolutely necessary? Probably not. Did it look cool enough for the crowd that gathered to applaud? Absolutely.

“Guess none of us can just meet up normally, huh?” Eighter mused. “Hey Shades, how ya doing?”

“I'm... overwhelmed,” she replied quietly, none too phased by the whole 'being thrown' thing. “I've just... I've got so, so much I want to say, that I...”

Timey knelt down beside the two. “Then just take your time,” he said gently. “Because no matter what happens, we'll still be here.”

“But... But I haven't been a good friend!” she shouted. “I... I've been cold, indifferent, and...”

“You? Cold and indifferent?” Deej questioned. “Mate, you're the last person I'd call cold. Heck, you're among my first and only friends!”

“And I doubt anyone thinks you indifferent, Miss Shades,” Basic said. “After all, your plans account for just about everything.”

“Seriously, Roomie, if you think you're the textbook definition of 'cold', then you might need to get a new dictionary.”

Shades looked at the rest of her team -her _friends_ \- smiling at her. It wasn't too often she cried openly, aside from yesterday, but guess second times the charm. “I... if it's not too much, then,” she croaked out, “then... I... I want...” _'Come on, just say it! Let them know!'_ “I want to stay with all of you! As... as a member of Bangaichi!”

Their smiles brightened. “We wouldn't have it any other way, my friend,” Timey said, wrapping his arms around Shades.

“Heck yeah! Group hug time!” Deej shouted, following suit.

Ahato and Basic shared a look, a shrug, and motioned for the likes of Callie, Marie, and Moni to join, before doing so themselves.

Throughout the history of both humanity and Inkling kind, there have been many moments that can be ranked as 'pure, unconditional love'. This one moment of eight people comforting one friend outshone them all by a landslide.

* * *

  
  


Time passed, and the sun had begun to set over Inkopolis. To call Bangaichi's impromptu concern a success would be an understatement; In fact, Timey could safely say he'd never seen Shades smile as bright as she was right now.

Right now, Shades, Moni, and Marie were working out their whole relationship situation, effectively making the three of them official. As luck would have it, Marie and Moni really managed to hit it off. Certainly helped by the fact that Moni was there for the Inkantation two years ago, sure, but they certainly had a lot of common ground. Shades, for instance, is quite a popular shared topic between the two.

As for the rest of the team, they were preparing a gift of sorts. They'd been gone for a while, leaving Timey and Callie alone to watch the love birds.

“You know, I'm glad things worked out,” Callie said. “I was kinda worried for a moment.”

“Which part?” Timey asked. “The 'suddenly your cousin has another girlfriend' part, or the 'people with limited musical talent are performing live' part?”

“Bit of both, I think,” she admitted, “but if anyone could pull it off, it'd be you, Tee.”

“You're faith is reassuring, as always,” Timey chuckled. “Still, in a few days, the semi-finals will start. Do you think you girls will be able to take down Rider?”

“What? Are you doubting us?” Callie asked incredulously. “You've really let the whole 'beating Octavio' thing get to your head, haven't you? Or have you forgotten that we were agents before you?”

Timey, naturally, fumbled to try and save the situation, as Callie laughed at his flustered expressions. “Really, I don't think you have to worry,” she reassured. “If we can't beat him, then we can at least give them doubts about the situation.”

“Sowing the seeds of malice, huh? That's a dark plan.”

“Thank Pearl for that one. She's very resentful with Rider after he effectively made himself your enemy.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her, alright.”

* * *

  
  


“Yo, Shades! Got a sec?” Deej called out, jogging towards the Inkling in question.

Shades turned her attention to the Octoling. “Sure, what's up?”

Deej held out a small item. “Here. Eighter, T-dog, Deddy, Basic and I all chipped in to get you something. Can't turf it up without proper head gear, right?”

“You... went that far out of your way for me?”

“Well, what did you expect, Roomie?” Ahato asked. “That we'd just leave a pal out to dry?”

“I don't think you'll be able to argue out of this one, Shades,” Moni stated.

“I guess so,” Shades muttered with a smile. “Speaking of, where is Basic, anyway?”

“Said he had to take his sister home,” Eighter responded. “It's always nice to see siblings getting along as well as them.”

“With you on that one, Love,” Ahato stated. “Well, Roomie? What are ya waiting for? Open it!”

Shades undid the cloth that wrapped the item, and was surprised to find a pair of Octoglasses. “Why go this far? I mean, I've got spare head gear at home.”

“You're point?” Deej asked. “It's not like any of us contributed towards them. Besides, think about it; you wearing the Octoglasses could be seen as a sign of growth, if not to the world, then at least to yourself.”

That was... huh. An interesting thought for Shades, to say the least. She quite liked it, she felt. Unfolding the arms, Shades put them on (and the weird thing about Octoglasses, mind you, is the fact that they're worn more as a headband and less as a pair of glasses. I mean, what the heck?). “So? How do I look?” she asked sheepishly.

The Octo-trio (as they have taken to calling themselves) all grinned brightly. “Like there's not a single thing wrong in the world,” Ahato stated. “See, Love, I told you she'd like the Octoglasses more than the Double Egg Shades.”

“Well, I'll take that loss, then,” Eighter responded with a shrug.

Though the semi-finals loomed ominously overhead, the bonds that tied Team Bangaichi together were stronger, now more than ever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  
> Sorry. Just had to do that. Writing this chapter was... gleeful, to say the least. This might actually be one of my favourites, if only for how hopeful it is.  
> Also, I'll just say that the Octoglasses, while one of my favourite gears, are freaking weird. I mean, the Inklings and Octolings don't even wear them as glasses.  
> Bloody weird, is what that is.  
> And so, we push on to the semi-finals!  
> Allons'y! (And yes, I'm not letting that die.)


	13. Home Stretch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greatest battles carry the greatest risks, but the grandest of rewards.

“Are y'all ready for this?!” Mesh shouted over the intercomm. The crowd that had gathered at Skipper Pavilion erupted in cheers. “As always, I'm your play-by-play commentator, Mesh, coming to you live for the first round of the semi-finals of the Square Jokers Cup!”

The crowd which had gathered to watch this match was larger than any before. Understandable, considering the teams that were participating this hour.

“Now, let's not wait any longer, and introduce our teams!” Mesh continued, as the main screen flicked to the 'good guy' team. “Standing on the left side, we have one of the few four person teams. You all know them. You all love them. Give a round of cheers for Team Idol-lesence!”

The crowd erupted once more, as the four idols of Off the Hook and Squid Sisters waved to them. It was plainly obvious as to why roughly 90% of the crowd was rooting for them, and it wasn't just because they were fans.

“And standing on the right side, we have what may just be public enemy numero uno. They fight for a cause that would be considered right, if it weren't for the simple fact that they're hurting others -and themselves- in the process. Be kind, and give a warm welcome to Team Sunlight-Yellow-Green!”

A round of applause to greet the ten members of Team SYG, but is was that strained, polite clap that people who really didn't like you gave. Not quite sarcastic, but definitely sassy.

“And with introductions now done, let's get ready to Spla-ttle!”

* * *

  
  


“You know, I'm kind of surprised Mesh hasn't put us out of a job yet,” Marina said, twirling one of her tentacles. “She bring so much energy to the job.”

“Yeah, well unlike her, we have notoriety,” Pearl replied, getting some stretches in. “So, we got any plans for this match, girls?”

“Yeah; winning,” Callie responded, hoisting the Hero Roller over her shoulder. “We're the last line between them and Tee, and I'm not letting them through.”

“'We're' not letting them through, you mean,” Marie corrected. “This isn't just your battle to fight, Callie.”

“I know, it's just...” Callie looked towards the opposing spawn, “how can they be so blind? How can they look at the hurt they caused him, and think it's right?”

“They're idiots, what do you expect?” Pearl answered, twirling her Dapple Dualies. “Besides, do ya really think these bozos can beat us, just because their three times our team size?”

“Two point five, actually,” Marina corrected, “but the point still stands. Plus, have you seen Rider, Gloves, and Half-Rims' new weapons? I've not seen weapons of that make and model before.”

True to form, the trio in question were wielding quite odd looking weapons. Rider, for instance, was hold an absolute behemoth of a Roller, which managed to put his previous Dynamo to shame. Gloves was hold a pair of Dualies that looked like some bastard child of a threeway between Dapples, Glooga, and Tetra Dualies. Half-Rims, the stoic faced sniper from Team Gloves, carried around some sort of heavily modified E-litre, with odd bits and pieces jutting out here and there.

“We'll have to keep an eye out for those,” Marie muttered. “Pearl, Marina, you're sporting your own Specials, right? How long would it take to charge them?”

“Too long, in my opinion,” Pearl responded. “But, even if we're splatted, we won't lose charge.”

“That's one relief, at least,” Marie added, as the buzzer sounded. “Alright. Pearl, you're with me. We're taking the top half of the stage. Callie, Marina, you've got the lower levels!”

“Roger dodger!” Callie shouted. “Alright, team, let's make some noise!”

* * *

  
  


From the crowds, Team Bangaichi stood and watched pensively.

“Do you think they'll be able to win?” Shades asked.

“You're asking me?” Timey questioned. “Honestly, I don't know. I want to believe; to hold out hope. But, those weapons Rider's brought in...”

Deej squinted his eyes, focusing on the tools in question. “If I'm not mistaken,” he said, “then those things were what Sharkfin was working on.”

“Seriously? That guy again?” Eighter asked. “Why would he just give away weapons like that?”

“Probably to get back at Marie after being outed,” Timey answered. “He's basically gone out of business after your little espionage escapade.”

Ahato gave Timey a curious look. “You'd better not trademark that one, because 'Espionage Escapade' is now the name of my next big single.”

“Then I'll be sure to buy it,” Timey smiled.

Basic made a small sound of exclamation. “It looks like they've gotten into position,” he said, and true to form, Team Idol-lesence was the first to reach the two halfs of the stage. Their stage coverage was average on the side of decent, but they still out scored Team SYG at the moment.

Team Bangaichi let out a collective cheer. “Alright! You go, Cal!” Timey shouted.

Moni gave a sidewards look at the Inkling. “You know, Shades, I don't think I ever properly realised how weird your team actually is.”

“You say that, but your not only dating two of us, but have also joined us for these final rounds,” Shades responded, before adding her voice to the shouting. “You've got this, Marie!”

“Show them what you're made of, Pearl! Marina!” Eighter added.

“Kick their asses!” Ahato followed up.

“Don't forget to floss after brushing!” Basic continued.

… “What?” asked pretty much everyone else.

* * *

  
  


Callie and Marina had managed to ink up most of the lower area, by this point.

“You know, those guys are really taking a while,” Callie muttered. “Think they're going the 'Emperor Road' approach?”

“I doubt it,” Marina replied. “Rider is far too hot blooded for such a slow approach.” She turned her attention to the high-rise. “Heads up, senpai. Bogies approaching.”

Callie quickly registered five Inklings, four of which dropped down to meet them close range. By her guess, they were Specs, Half-Rims, School Uniform, Bamboo Hat, and Straps. That meant Brush, jail-broken Charger, 52 Gal, Splatling, and Roller, repsectively.

“Well, at least it's a 50/50 split,” Callie said, readying her Roller. “Let's do this, Marina!”

“Right behind you!”

The duo charged, a quick swing of the Roller taking down Bamboo Hat and Straps, and the Tenta Brella blocking the Splatling and Brush.

“Damn it, go down already!” Specs shouted, swinging his Octo Brush with reckless abandon. “I refuse to let anyone keep us from our friend!”

“Funny you should say that,” Marina muttered, taking a few steps back as she retracted the Brella's canopy. “Because the feeling is mutual!” A heavy swing -a tactic not often used for Brellas- knocked the Brush off course, and a point blank shot splatted Specs immediately. As she did that, Callie had eliminated School Uniform. Four foes down, and minimal damage to themselves or the Brella. Nice.

Marina quickly noticed the laser sight of the Charger, and popped the canopy before the shot was fired.

No good.

The shot tore through the shield as if it weren't there to begin with, and splatted Marina instantly.

“Jesus Carp!” Callie shouted, as she ducked to cover before a second shot sailed past. Capitalising on Half-Rims' equal amount of surprise, Callie activated a Special, specifically the Ultra Stamp, and lobbed it at the distracted Inkling, scoring the splat.

* * *

  
  


“What? Rina's already been got?” Pearl shouted.

“Blast. Those new weapons are something else,” Marie cursed. Currently, their exchange with the other half of Team SYG was going about as well as Callie and Marina's. Their opponents here were Rider, Gloves, Prinz, Stealth Goggles, and Clip-Ons, meaning Jail-broken Roller and Dualies, Emperry Dualies, Squelcher, and Splattershot, respectively. Considering Marie and Pearl were currently the epitome of min-max range, things weren't going as smoothly for them.

Pearl dodged around and managed to splat both Prinz and Clip-Ons, while Marie sniped Stealth Goggles rather easily. That just left the two with the unfair weapons.

“Well, guess I'll just have to see how cool these weapons are,” Gloves stated, as he prepared to square off with Pearl.

“Bring it, try-hard!” Pearl spat. “Don't matter what weapon you bring, against me it won't mean a Cod damn thing!”

“Pretty cool bars, there,” Gloves commented, as he activated the dodge-roll mechanic of his Dualies, “but let's see if you can walk that walk.”

It was all together too fast for anyone to see. One moment he was there, the next he wound up behind Pearl, guns trained on her. Pearl was only saved thanks to Gloves underestimating his own weapons, and missing his mark enough for her to get some distance.

Taking the opportunity that arose, Marie let of a charged shot, barely missing Gloves as he ducked behind cover.

“Like I'll let you!” Rider shouted for the other vantage point. He swung the Roller, and the idol duo made the smart move of clearing out quickly.

It was a horizontal swing with twice the Dynamo's vertical range, and they didn't even want to know how much damage it could do.

“Geez, what jackass made those things?” Pearl shouted.

“A jackass with an agenda,” Marie answered, dropping from the vantage point as they made for the bottom of the stage. “We'll rendezvous with Callie first, then press our assault. Agreed?”

“Gotcha, sis,” Pearl replied.

* * *

  
  


To say that Callie was not having a pleasant time would be an understatement; she was adamently starting to hate Team SYG, and she wasn't fond of hating.

Not only were they using such blatantly illegal weapons (which she can't officially complain about, considering this is the Jokers Cup), but that Specs guy was really, _really_ adamant about the whole 'Timey = Goggles' thing, to the point where she made sure to splat him the first chance she got whenever he showed himself.

Still, that didn't change the fact that she and Marina (after respawning and super jumping over) were fighting the main bulk of Team SYG on their own, and they certainly weren't push overs.

Some quick dodging between Gal shots, followed by a swing that took out two of her foes. If there's one good thing that comes from being out numbered, it's that it's far easier to hit a target, and actually not get hit. Cod bless body blocking.

Before Clip-Ons could get execute a Splashdown, Pearl got the drop on her, splatting her rather quickly. “So, we've got some problems up shop,” the shorter Inkling said bluntly.

“No squidding, bud,” Callie retorted. “How strong are those new weapons of theirs?”

“The Dualies are stupid fast, to the point of being almost unwieldy,” Marie answered, sniping Half-Rims before he could get a shot it, “and the Roller has bullshit range and coverage. Don't want to test the hurt it could deal.”

“That's... certainly bad,” Marina muttered, looking up at the timer. “We've still got the last three minutes to get through. Will we actually pull this off?”

“We'll die trying, is what we'll do,” Pearl shouted. “First, we clear out these bozos, and... where did they go?”

Much to Team Idol-lesence's surprise, all of Team SYG had cleared out of the lower area, and had begun gathering at Rider and Gloves. “What are they...” Marie muttered, before a thought occurred. “Oh carp. Everyone scatter!”

It was almost too late. Marina reacted instantly to the call, and super jumped back to spawn, while Callie and Pearl were a little too slow on the draw as four Sting Rays boxed them and Marie in.

“Really? This plan again?” Pearl muttered in annoyance. “Ain't you fools got anything else to try?”

“Shut it,” Rider spat venomously. “I was on the edge about fight you at first, but now? I don't care. You're just another obstacle keeping us from our friend.”

“Oh, blah blah blah. Do you even hear yourself, edgelord?” Pearl retorted. “Maybe the memo ain't been hit hard enough into ya, but he ain't your friend. Heck, just ask Callie here. She's been dating him for over a year.”

“Two years, actually,” Callie corrected.

“I'm still right, though.”

“Enough!” Rider shouted. “I've had enough of this shit! When will you stop acting like you know him?!”

“That depends,” Marie retorted, “who are we talking about? Because I can assure you, the guy you're talking about as if he were an old friend? He's not the same person that's currently in the audience.”

Rider gritted his teeth, and paid little attention to the concerned looks his team mates were giving him. “You know what?” Rider spat, as he activated a Special of choice: A Killer Wail. “I'm going to blast you out of this freaking dimension!”

“Oh, carp,” Callie said in faint sarcasm. “What are we going to do against a Killer Wail, with only one minute left on the clock?”

“Guess it's my time to shine,” Pearl added, stretching her muscles. “Won't be the first time blowing out my voice, and it won't be quite as awesome as the last time, but damn if it won't be fun!” Her Special triggered, and before her manifested her own, larger Killer Wail, known to many as the Princess Cannon. She could see the look of fear on Team SYG's faces, even as their own Wail was primed to fire. “Yo! Rider!” Pearl called, as the Princess Cannon charged to max.

“EAT SHIT!”

Both Killer Wails fired, and to call the ensuing beam clash a 'one sided battle' would be an understatement. It was like if a wrecking ball was used to knock over a house of cards. An entire party wipe in a single shout, that may have also cause minor property damage.

And the kicker? Pearl was holding back, so as to not cause _major_ property damage.

“Well, slap my butt and call me a rented mule!” Mesh shouted. “That was one of the biggest turn arounds I've ever seen! This is exactly why you don't mess around with idols!”

When Rider finally respawned, he felt unnaturally tired.

Was this to be the end? No, he could quite now. Not when he was so close.

“Come on,” Rider said quietly. “We've still got a small lead, and there's still some time on the clock. If we can...”

He froze the moment he saw Marina standing on their teams vantage point. She gave a polite wave, then pointed to something a few paces from their spawn.

He turned his attention down stage, and saw what was, for lack of a better description, a giant Suction Bomb. In fact, there were several, scattered all throughout their turfed area.

When there was ten seconds left, Marina tossed a Burst Bomb casually at the nearest one, and caused the chain reaction to end all chain reactions.

The buzzer sounded, and Rider could only conclude that they never had a chance in hell of winning.

* * *

  
  


“Now that was a turnabout if I've ever seen one!” Mesh said from the sound booth. “Do we even need to do a score tally? Only for formalities sake, I guess. And so, with a score of 2100 to 339, the team moving on to the finals is... Team Idol-esence!”

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, though none cheered quite as loudly or happily as the members of Team Bangaichi. They were so happy, in fact, that Timey, Shades, Eighter, and Moni, all super jumped to them the moment their victory was announced. The rest of the team followed suit soon after.

“You did it!” Timey shouted gleefully, wrapping Callie in as big a hug as he could manage.

“Come on, Tee. Did you really think we wouldn't?” Callie responded, returning the hug.

“She's right dude,” Pearl added. “Have you gone and forgotten we're pros? There wasn't a chance in hell they'd beat us!”

“I'm with Pearlie on this one,” Marina spoke, holding Eighter in a hug all their own. “Even if we wound up on the back foot, our Specials would have torn straight through them.”

“Damn straight!” Pearl followed up. “Ain't no one out there who can match up to the MC-DJ combo!”

“I had a feeling you'd plan something like that,” Shades stated. “There wasn't a chance there was no contingency set up for those weapons.”

“Well, we certainly weren't prepared for them, but we adapted,” Marie answered. “Still, where did they get those?”

“Sharkfin, that's where,” Deej answered. “I recognise them from the blueprints. Seems that douche has it out for ya.”

“Figures,” Marie muttered, making sure that Moni was also part of this group hug. There really seemed to be a lot of those going around, huh?

“Alright, folks. Our next match will be at Sturgeon Shipyard in two hours, so if Teams Idol-esence and Bangaichi would be so civil as to STOP MAKING THE GENERAL POPULACE JEALOUS OF THEIR HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS, that be grand,” Mesh shouted.

“Oops, looks like someone's not happy,” Ahato commented slyly. “How about we blow this popsicle stand, then?”

“With you on that one, bud,” Timey replied.

As they turned to leave, a shout caught them short. “Wait!” Rider called. “Please, Goggles, don't... don't leave again!”

“Jeez, can't these guys get the message?” Pearl cursed quietly. “Give me a moment, and I'll freaking...”

“No. Let me,” Timey cut in, stepping forward. “This whole thing started because of me, so it's best that I end it.”

“Got it,” Pearl replied. “But if he tries anything, I swear I'ma cut 'im.”

Timey paid little mind to the comment, and stared intently at Rider as he approached, while letting his eyes wander to the other members of Team SYG. As he gazed, he noticed the look in Rider's eyes was shared only with Specs.

When they were standing mere feet apart, the first thing Timey did was snatch the Roller from him. Were it not for his training as an agent, he would have found this thing to be ungodly heavy. It certainly looked as heavy as it weighed. With a decent amount of strength, Timey hefted the Roller, and tossed it into the water. Not like anyone would dive in to get it.

He turned his attention back to Rider. “Rider,” he began, “you look like shit. Go home, and get some damn sleep already.” He turned to leave, only for Rider to grab his coat. “Rider, you're going to have to accept it sooner or later, so you'd best get this over with.”

“Please... don't... don't leave us again,” Rider barely managed to say. It was rather painful, hearing how defeated he was.

Timey gave a sad sigh. Well, best get this over with. “Rider, that's just the problem,” he said, turning around. “Goggles never came back to begin with. So please, go home. Go home and mourn, as you should have.” With a small tug, he took his lab coat from Rider's grip. “Farewell, Rider. If we meet again, I hope it can be as friends.”

“Wai...” Rider tried to shout, but found his voice die in his throat. It was true; he was tired. He refused to allow himself to rest because this was his last chance to get his friend back.

His last chance, and he failed. As he thought back on it, it slowly began to dawn on him that he lost a long time ago. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt.

Shakily, he rose to his feet. “Rider?” Specs asked quietly. “What happens now?”

He took a glance at the glasses wearing Inkling, and noticed just how close to crying he was. Rider concluded half-heartedly that he was probably thinking the same thoughts; reaching the same conclusions. “I... don't know,” Rider admitted. “Just... home, I guess.”

As Timey and company finally made some distance from the Pavilion, Timey let out a shaky breath he didn't realise he was holding.

“Tee?” Callie spoke up, taking his hand. “You alright?”

Timey looked her in the eyes, and smiled. “Yeah. I'll be fine.”

* * *

  
  


The hours passed, and it was finally time for the final round of the semi-finals.

“Are y'all ready for this?” Mesh spoke over the speakers once more. “This is Mesh, giving you the play-by-play from Sturgeons Shipyard, and we've got an honest to Cod even matchup right now!” The screen first flicked to Team Bangaichi. “First up, I don't think they need any further introduction, but give it up for our faves: Team Bangaichi!” the crowd erupted in cheers for the team of seven. “Quite interesting to see that Moni, former leader of Team Old-School Literature, has joined up with them. Perhaps it was some sort of precaution in case they had to face Sunlight-Yellow-Green, but we all know how that went.” The screen flicked over to the other team, showing seven Inklings sporting yellow ink. “And going against them is the team formerly known as S4+1. They went and enlisted the aid of the remaining two members of the monarch team, just for this match! So, let's give a round of applause to the newly christened Team S4 Kings!”

To describe their team in one word would be 'intimidating'. Their players were: An N-Zap '85 user, wearing the Special Forces Berret, Forge Inkling Parka, and Punk Cherries (this was Army). A 52 Gal user wearing a Golf Visor, Aloha Shirt, and Crazy Arrows (Aloha). A Carbon Roller user in a Gas Mask, Purple Camo LS, and Green Rain Boots (Mask). An E-litre user in a Skull Bandanna, Octo Tee, and Gold Hi-Horses (Skull). An Emperry Dualies user in the full Milky Eminence set (Emperor). A Clash Blaster user (male) and a Splatterscope user (female) in the same set, with the shoes switched out for Red & Black Squidkid IV and N-Pacer Ags (Squidkid Jr and N-Pacer, respectively).

“So, that's the S4 and the monarch team?” Deej asked. “Damn if they don't have the aura of pros.”

“The S4 themselves are the best of the best, and Emperor better still,” Shades explained. “The only reason we're technically going in with a disadvantage is because they have a higher skill floor to us.”

“That don't mean squat to us,” Ahato shot. “We've overcome just about everything the worlds thrown at us! We beat these buffoons, and we're basically a shoe in for a fun finals.”

“You know, I actually share Miss Ahato's confidence,” Basic said, hoisting his... was that a L-3 Nozzlenose? He's really trying out other weapons, now. “We've come a long way since the preliminaries. I'm sure we'll get through this.”

“Besides, we have a similar team comp to them,” Moni added. “Two long ranged for them, compared to our three and a bit, and the rest are close to mid range. Tackle the right opponent with the right player, and we've got this.”

“Then we'll just have to leave the planning to you, Shades,” Timey spoke. “After all, I don't think there's anyone we'd rather trust with that.”

“I don't think there's one else who could even take my job,” Shades joked. “Alright, Timey and Basic, you two take the right side; split up to cover the vantage and main how you choose. Deej and I will take the left, following similar stratagem. Eighter, Ahato, and Moni, you three get to an elevated area of your choosing, and start blasting them out. We'll do more than just take mid, folks; we're gonna keep those pros in their own damn spawn.”

“Oh, I love this new Shades we've got!” Deej exclaimed.

“Right with you on that one,” Eighter agreed. “This fire she's got inside of her; it's quite pleasant to watch.”

Shades rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Come on, guys. You're gonna make me blush.”

“Too late for that, Roomie,” Ahato chuckled.

“Ah, I love our chemistry,” Timey muttered. “Alright. Team Bangaichi...” The buzzer sounded. “Let's make some noise!”

* * *

  
  


Eighter made her vantage point the elevated turf just before mid. Ahato had elected to maximising her jail-broken E-litre to pick off targets from as far away as she could, while Moni took to covering their teams ramp, leaving Eighter with suppressing fire on mid.

This would be a cinch, she felt. Team S4+ may have had years of experience in Turf Wars, but her team? They had a bit more drive than most other teams. What could S4+ possibly bring to the table to top them?

“ _The element of surprise,” Commander @#@7* said. “The moment you take the enemy for granted, your defeat is all but guaranteed.”_

“What the...” Eighter muttered. She recognised that voice as Ahato's, but it sounded... younger. Sterner. Another memory flash? They really did have inopportune timing, huh?

“ _Listen, brat. If you really want to reach that sky, then stick close to me. I'll keep you alive until then.”_

“ _Understood, commander,” came her monotoned reply._

When Eighter finally snapped back to the present day, she quickly registered that Aloha had gotten the jump on her, taking that currently elevated path beside her vantage point. Quickly, she leapt from her spot, going backwards into their teams 'common area' (that spot with the random sponge).

“Quick one, aren't you?” Aloha asked coyly. “But you won't get away from me.”

Eighter unloaded her charge, as the Ballpoint Splatling shifted into direct fire mode. Unfortunately, he was as quick as she had heard; managing to duck between the bullets and effectively break-dance his way into range. The annoying thing about the Gal line was that, in the right hands, the slow but powerful shots were more threatening than any Sploosh user with full Swim Speed Up gear.

Eighter shifted her grip on the Splatling, electing to use it as a makeshift shield to deflect what shots she couldn't dodge.

“Not too bad,” Aloha commented, “but a bit too slow.” In a 'blink and you'll miss it' moment, Aloha managed to kick the Ballpoint from her grip, and held the barrel of the 52 Gal at her face. “You know, it's a shame we had to meet like this,” Aloha said. “You're actually quite cute, looking at you up close. How about a date after this?”

“Sorry, chum. Not my type,” Eighter shot back, not being a particularly big fan of these kinds of flirts. “Also, already taken.”

As if on cue (and let's face it, it probably was), Aloha got obliterated by Ahato's sniper fire. Eighter made sure to give a thumbs up the snipers way, as she recollected her Splatling.

“And just where are you going?” a voice interrupted. Instinct took over, and Eighter barely avoided a swing from a Carbon Roller. The Inkling known as Mask ended up getting the drop on her, while the rest of the team was preoccupied with facing the monarch trio.

Ahato tried to turn her aim on Mask, yet had to quickly duck behind cover as a shot from Skull sailed by. This was also accompanied by the sound of Moni getting hit by N-Pacer's shot. From a subjective stand point, it seemed that their front lines had been breached.

As things stood, Eighter currently had nowhere else to go but forward, if she was to avoid getting got.

A step backwards, she raised the Ballpoint horizontal, and clashed with the Carbon.

“ _Come on, Trash Girl!” a taunting voice shouted. “Sure there's more to you than this?”_

_Kashimi slowly tried to rise to her feet, only to get kicked back down. Her hands and left cheek burned from the small puddle of sea water she was being kept upon._

Eighter shook her head, trying to dispel the memories that came. This particular batch was... unpleasant, to say the least.

“How about you just go down, already?” Mask said slowly. “Right now, you're just being a bother.”

Gritting her teeth, Eighter jumped away, and narrowly dodged twin sniper fire that crossed her position. From the looks of things, Timey and Basic ended up being splatted not too long ago. She checked the time: 4 minutes and 51 seconds left. This'll be a slow one, huh.

She took a look across the stage, and noticed Deej and Shades going toe to toe with Squidkid Jr, Aloha, and Army. Okay. Cool. But, where was Emperor, then?

“You're quite the careless one, aren't you?” the voice to answer the question spoke. Eighter dodged at just the right time, to avoid the Dualies user. “Seems your head's not quite in the game.”

“Grr. Could you people just stop talking already?” Eighter shouted, unloading the Splatling's charge.

If Aloha's dodging was like a dance, then Emperor's was akin to phasing through. He moved forward indomitably, as if the shots were trying not to hit him.

“ _To me,” the Octoling before her stated, “you're nothing but trash. Go die whenever you feel your usefulness is up.”_

She wasn't sure who that was, but they certainly seemed to be an asshole.

Eighter couldn't help but wonder what the heck was going on, as she used the Ballpoint to block what shot she could. Memories were just surging into her like a raging waterfall. Why was it always when she was going against opponents that were fundamentally stronger than herself?

Emperor humphed in mild amusement. “You're certainly spirited. However...” A stray E-litre shot from Skull knocked the Ballpoint from her hands, and over the edge. “That's as far as you go.”

Emperor levelled his weapon at her face.

“Kashimi!” Ahato called out.

The trigger was pulled.

* * *

  
  


“ _Oi, kid,” Ahato spoke, “what are you looking at?”_

_Kashimi didn't look to respond, merely continued to stare at the small dot of light above. “I can't reach it,” she said plainly, holding a burned hand up._

“ _Can't reach what?”_

“ _The sky.”_

_Ahato spat to the side. “Of course you can't reach it, brat,” she said. “We're Cod knows how deep underground. Geez. Why did I even save you, if you're just going to ask stupid questions?”_

_..._

“ _Eyes forward, private,” Ahato shouted. “We're here to partrol, not sight see.”_

“ _Understood, Commander Mizuta,” Kashimi responded blandly. She looked up, and noticed a similar dot of light in the fake sky._

“ _Still can't reach it,” Kashimi muttered dejectedly._

_..._

“ _Jesus Carp, what the actual fuck were you thinking?” Ahato asked, running a damp cloth over the cuts on the small of Kashimi's back. “Why the hell would you listen to those idiots? You know they just want to get you killed.”_

“ _But, they said it would help to keep you alive,” Kashimi responded._

_Ahato let out an irritated sigh. “Kid, they don't care about me. They just want to get as close to my old man as they can, and are doing that by first getting rid of you, then taking the spot you'll leave open on my team. I'm as much a means to an end as you are.”_

_..._

“ _Oi, Kashimi! You set?”_

“ _Almost!” she shouted back. It was the fifth month after the Song Bringer, known to them as Koyo Raito, showed them a new way to live, and they were preparing for their journey to greener pastures; their very own Promised Land. “You sure about this, Comma... er, Ahato? This means leaving your people behind?”_

“ _What'chu talkin' about? Most of them actually went on ahead of us,” Ahato replied, wrapping her arms around Kashimi's neck. “If anything, Love, we're the late ones.”_

_Kashimi giggled lightly, craning her neck back to plant a kiss on Ahato's cheek. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked coyly. “A royal invitation?”_

“ _Too true,” Ahato chuckled. “Now, let's go. It's about time we got you that sky, isn't it?”_

_..._

_Pain. Her body was being assaulted by unimaginable pain._

_It was like boiling magma incased in the coldest ice was coursing through her veins; rewriting her very being._

_She fought it. Cod knows she fought it, to keep who she was._

_The icy fire crept its tendrils throughout her body. Invading. Violating. Destroying. Every cell that said she was Kashimi was dying. Being replaced by something... other._

_Yet, she still fought._

_She fought, so that one day, she might get back everything she lost._

_She fought, so that one day, she could be with the one she loved._

_She fought, so that one day, she could finally see that sky that alluded her so._

_-_

_Crystal light; dear, far, and free._

_Why do we lose, whenever we choose?_

_But at the end, I am still me._

* * *

  
  


When she finally opened her eyes, she was met with endless blue. Memories of times long past rushed back like a tidal wave as she laid on her back in the magenta ink of her team.

There was a faint ringing in her ears, and a shadowy figure loomed over her. That was... Emperor. Right. She was starting to get herself back into the present.

Emperor said something. She was pretty sure it was along the lines of “Guess I should have double tapped. No matter. A kings victory is absolute.” She could only guess based on lip reading at the moment, but if she was right, then he was a bit of a prick.

Sniper fire flew past the Inklings head. She managed to crane her neck enough to see Ahato trying to cover her.

Ahato... “Geez. Really kept you waiting, huh?” she muttered.

Emperor gave the Octoling on the ground before him a curious look. What was she on about? No matter, he supposed, aiming his Dualie at her head again. One more shot should...

Where did she go? She was right there; he was looking at her, and now...

He was splatted.

She hefted the newly deployed Flingza Roller on her shoulder, and quickly assessed the map. Seemed Aloha and Squidkid Jr were pushing across the bridge to get to her.

How careless. She charged them, first. Managing to catch them both off guard, and splatting them both. She quickly noticed the light trail from the Splatterscope, dodged as the shot fired, and roughly three well placed Burst Bombs took down the sniper.

It was strange, she found, just how light she had come to feel. Years of knowledge that had previously lain just out of reach, now within her grasp. She really couldn't help but grin at that idea.

The took a look at the clock, and noticed that they were roughly 45 seconds into the last two minutes, and the balance of ink was roughly even. Shades and Deej had managed to splat their opponents at the same time them themselves splatted, while Moni, Timey, and Basic had managed to claim back what turf they had lost.

Well, who better to push into the enemy base, then, but her?

She was still deaf to the world; that insistent ringing in her ears persisting, but right now, she felt more like herself than in the past few months. The entirety of Team S4+ closed in on her, but all their shots fell short.

One minute left on the clock.

She danced around them like a ballet. Not even the blast radius of the Clash Blaster was able to hit her.

She was whole. She was herself.

She was Eighter.

She was Kashimi.

* * *

  
  


“And that's the game!” Mesh called for the second time this day. “This would have to be one of the only times this tournament has had a fair match, and man did it deliver! Judd and Mini Judd have finished their calculations, so let's have a look!” The screen showed the percentage bar. “And our final finalist is... Team Bangaichi! With a lead of 200 points!”

“Alright!” Deej cheered. “This is, without doubt, the best damn timeline!”

“Right with you there, Mr Deej,” Basic followed up. “There's now absolutely no risk to Mr Timey from this tournament.”

Timey gave a small chuckle, as he leaned against the nearest wall. “I'll admit, it's a load off my mind.”

“Well, at least now, the final round can just be a fun little romp,” Shades replied.

“It'll be kinda interesting to see how much Iida has chanced in an actual battle,” Ahato muttered. “What do you think, Love?” She rose an eye brow when she got no response. “Love?”

She looked around, but found that Eighter was around. “That's strange,” Moni muttered, noticing the absence of Eighter. “Where do you suppose she went?”

“Dunno,” Ahato replied. “Maybe just to the loo, or something. I'll go check around. Don't start the afterparty without me, got it?”

* * *

  
  


After what may have been an hour of searching, Ahato landed in Inkopolis Square feeling rather panicked.

Where could she have gone off to? She wasn't anywhere in the neighbourhood of the Shipyard, so where?

Her phone buzzed. Ahato quickly pulled it forth, and checked.

**Agent_Octopod:** Have you tried looking up?

Ahato quickly did so, and noticed Eighter in the distance, sitting on the edge of the grand tower above the lobby. Ahato let out an exasperated sigh, as she super jumped up.

Ahato landed, and gave Eighter a light slap on the back of the head. “Next time, tell someone you're going sight seeing. Almost gave me a bloody heart attack.”

“Sorry, just needed to hear the wind,” she apologised. “Ears started playing up after Trench-coat McJackass shot me in the face.”

“How you holding up, after that?”

“Still kinda stings, but I'll live.” Eighter rubbed her eye briefly. “Think he got some in my eye, though. Still, I've had worse.”

“Girl Power Station, right?” Ahato asked. “Yeah, I remember going through that one. Man, using a Charger there was rough.”

Eighter chuckled lightly. “That wasn't quite what I meant,” she said, much to Ahato's confusion. She turned her gaze to the now setting sun. “You know, when I first made it to the surface, it was... overwhelming. So much going on. So many colours. It was... honestly amazing. But, one thing that always struck me as interesting was the sky. Immediately after escaping, I got to see my first sunrise, and it was breathtaking. I felt like I could just... grasp the sun. Put it in a bottle, or something.”

“Sounds quite nice,” Ahato said quietly, though the tinge of sadness in her voice was not lost to Eighter.

Eighter turned her head to look at Ahato. “I use to talk a lot about reaching the sky, didn't I?”

Ahato blinked in surprise. “Yeah. How did you...” Ahato froze, as a few pieces fell together in her head. “You... don't mean...”

“I do,” came the reply that practically danced on the air between them. “So, I think I can safely say this to you, Commander Ahato Mizuta.” Kashimi held her arms up at her side as she faced Ahato -whom currently had tears welling up in her eyes- with a smile that outshone the sun itself.

“Look, Ahato! I've finally reached the sky!”

Ahato gave a tearful, joy-filled smile. “Yes,” she replied, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Yes you have!”

* * *

  
  


**Chatlog:**

**Dedf1sh:** SHE GOT HER MEMORIES BACK!!!

**Tenta-fool:** Best. Timeline. Ever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't often use emoji's, but when I do...  
> :')  
> Well, pressing on. I bet most of you were also expecting the finals to be Sunlight-Yellow-Green vs Bangaichi, right? Well, so was I. But then, I was reminded by a kind individual that Pearl's Princess Cannon and Marina's Hyper Bombs were a thing. After that, I just couldn't think of a way that Rider and company could come out on top.  
> So, rather than force their win, we're subverting things.  
> Still, two full Turf Wars in one chapter? Kinda exhausting.  
> But, we press on.  
> Allons'y!


	14. A Burn too Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And journies reach their conclusion, yet that does not mean the adventure is over for good.

A dull thumping echoed throughout the apartment. The neighbours would have complained about it, if they didn't know just what it was about, and allowed the young man his venting out of sympathy.

Rider cursed many things over the course of the day. He cursed his luck for going up against opponents that so thoroughly outclassed him. He cursed those opponents themselves. He cursed Bangaichi. He cursed the entire damn world.

And most of all, he cursed himself, for choosing to fight a battle he should have known he'd never truly win.

He should have known better. He should have known that he wasn't Goggles. What sort of friend was he, mistaking him for someone else?

He hated that he lost, yet he hater more that losing was the only way to go forward.

His phone buzzed. Picking it up, he checked the message.

**Chatlog:**

**Uniform:** You doing alright? I can hear you from down the hall.

**Ghost_Rider:** Take a guess.

**Uniform:** Right. Stupid question. You sure you don't want to talk to someone about it?

**Ghost_Rider:** I just need some time.

**Uniform:** Alright. Just... We're here with you.

Rider allowed himself the first small smile he'd had in days. It was at least comforting to remember he wasn't the only one on this sinking ship.

Stepping away from the cracking wall, Rider dropped himself down on the bed.

* * *

  
  


Specs found himself sat by the Crust Bucket, an empty drink cup in hand. Like Rider, he was busy coming to terms with the facts that presented themselves. Unlike Rider, though, he was managing to internalise most of his grieving.

In his opinion, it was a bit more uncomfortable than punching something.

In his opinion, though, what hurt him the most was the fact that Bobble Hat and Headphones knew, and he didn't believe them. He was really hating himself for that.

“Specs?” a familiar voice called out.

Specs didn't need to turn around. He knew who it was. “Hey, Headphones,” he muttered sadly. “You sound like your handling this alright.”

“I'm really not,” she responded. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” he replied. What reason would he have to turn her away? They grew up together, to crying out loud. Headphones sat down beside him, and Specs noticed the redness around her eyes. “You've been crying too, huh?”

“Yeah. Kinda hard not to,” Headphones admitted.

Specs let out a small hmm. “How'd you learn, anyway? I don't think I asked before.”

“Bobble Hat showed me,” she answered. “It was... quite something. It was the day after their match with Team X-Blood, some of them had gathered to discuss how to help one of their friends' gloomy mood. There was... a certain fire to that guy. After that, I just couldn't... see him as Goggles.”

“I see,” Specs noted. “I think, the moment that should have sold me was when we made him angry. It was... very scary. Rider was starting to think he was being brainwashed, and that guy just... snapped. I actually thought that, for a moment, one of us wasn't going to leave in one piece.” Specs turned his gaze downwards. “We... really screwed up big time, huh?”

“Yeah. We really did.”

Silence fell once again. “I know... we were in the wrong. In general,” Specs continued. “But... were we wrong to want him back?”

“I don't think so,” she replied, “just wrong to try and force it.”

“Well, you kids try not to beat yaselves up too much about it,” a new, older voice spoke. “Cod knows he wouldn't.”

The duo turned, to see an old Inkling dressed in a green track suit -In fact, they were fairly certain that he was wearing the Old Timey set-, and using an old Bamboozler as a cane. “I'm sorry,” Specs began, “but who are you?”

“Me? Name's Craig, but most folks just call me Captain Cuttlefish,” the old man responded. At that moment, Specs noticed the ink tank on his back. Was he... planning on taking part in a Turf War? A guy who didn't look a day under 100?

“Um, does that mean you know him?” Headphones asked. “Timey, I mean.”

“Know him? Of course I know him!” Craig responded. “I taught him most of the things he knows, after all.”

“Only... most?” Specs asked.

“Well, the rest he learnt on his own. Trial by fire, ya know?” Craig chuckled. “Kid's been through a lot, really. It's kinda surprising he hasn't gone absolutely bonkers.”

Remembering the day after the first rounds, Specs fell into sombre silence again. “He must... really hate us, huh?”

“You squidding?” Craig asked incredulously. “I doubt that kid's even capable of an emotion as strong as 'hate'. I think, more than anything, he was just disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Headphones parroted.

“Yeah.” Craig took a seat beside the two. “Those kids come from all wakes of life. They've dealt with things that would make most kids your age think back to the Great Turf War, yet they've pushed through, and retained the most important thing. You know what that is?” He tapped Specs on the chest. “Heart. Even that Shades lass, who constantly worried about being a jerk, held on to the compassion within. Even you kids ended up using that sort of power. Only difference was the fact that they used their drive to move forward.”

“Moving forward...” Specs muttered. “I don't know... if I can.”

“'Course you can!” Craig said. “Yer a cephalopod, ain't ya? You can do anything ya set your mind to.” He checked the time quickly. “Ah. Best get going. Finals are about to start.”

“Ah, so they are,” Specs noted. “They're being held at Moray Towers, right? You got a front row seat for it?”

Craig chuckled heartedly. “Squiddo, I've got a front _line_ spot for it.”

* * *

  
  


As it turned out, he was being quite literal when he said 'front line'. As it turned out, Craig Cuttlefish had joined up with Team Bangaichi for this match, hoisting their numbers up to eight.

Specs thought it somewhat unfair to have gone for a 2 for 1 advantage over Team Idol-lescence, until said team showed up with a grand total of _five more_ team members. Said five also happened to be the remaining members of Team Old-School Literature, including the Giant Squid known as Devil.

What had originally gone from a 4 v 7 to a 4 v 8, had just gone up to a 9 v 8. Certainly a jump in numbers, to say the least.

Both teams stood centre stage at Moray, while Mesh went on her needed spiel about the match.

“So,” Timey began, “you brought out the big guns.”

“Well, what can we say?” Callie replied. “Thought we'd give them a chance to see a full match through. You know, to top this off.”

“Don't think that quite eclipses who you've brought on to the field,” Marie added. “You sure you want to do this, gramps? You're not exactly the fittest squid on the block.”

“Poppy-cock!” Craig harrumphed. “Just because I'm old, ya think I'll fall behind? I've been going back and forth to Cephelon for the past month and a bit, and ya think I've not beefed up by now? 'Sides, someone has to make sure you girls are still fighting in top form, yourselves. Don't think I ain't noticed your snacking, Callie.”

The Inkling in question baulked expectedly at the accusation. Over the sound of mass laughter, Devil crouched down besides Timey. “Excuse me,” he said softly, “but I need to ask... Is he really the grandfather to the Squid Sisters?”

Timey made an amusing mental note of how the big guy was as polite as Basic. “He is. I've seen the photos.”

“Can... can I see them?” Devil asked. Timey pulled out his phone, and displayed a classic 'picture of a picture' of the captain playing with a young Callie and Marie. “Bloody adorable,” he said with a smile.

“I know,” Timey agreed, putting his phone away.

“You are a lucky squid, you know,” Devil continued. “Many would kill to have the sort of connections you've got.”

“I'm quite aware, friend,” he replied. “We've all had our fair shares of ups and downs. But, no matter what, I wouldn't trade what I have right now for anything.”

“Not even world peace?”

Timey gave a curious look to Devil. “Some prices can just be too great to pay.”

The conversation continued for a while, before Mesh called for both teams to head for their spawns.

“So, think you can beat us, Tee?” Callie asked. “We do have one up on you, and it's a big one.”

Timey gave a confident smirk. “You sure this is all we're bringing to the table?” he asked. “Trust me, after some discussion, we have one last surprise for you.”

Both leaders super jumped to their spawns, yet Timey's was slightly to the left, leading to him landing on one of the light fixtures. He raised his off hand to the sky, and with a snap...

“Hey, DJ!”

Much to the surprise -nay, shock- of Team Idol-escence, a massive floating machine appeared behind Timey. A machine known as the Octobot King II. Within the main compartment of this machine stood a fully armoured Octavio, sporting a grin to rival Timey's.

“You thought you had overkill?” Octavio shouted. “Somebody better be ready to hold my damn drink!”

“Now this is something no one would see coming!” Mesh announced. “A true, 9 v 9 match, with each team having their own damn juggernauts and heroes! This will certainly be a match for the history books, folks!” There was a set of pings from her console. “And it looks like both Marina and Bangaichi's big player, King Boom Box, have sent me their recommended music. They're... both the same song, how about that! Well, if the players want it, the players get it!” The music was set, and to the absolute hype of every Inkling and Octoling present, it was the Calamari Inkantation (Spicy mix, if you're curious). “Alright, ladies and gentle-squids... Let's get ready to Splattle!”

* * *

  
  


From the comfort of home, Octi watched the battle begin with rapt attention, as a cavalcade of emotions and thoughts swam through her mind.

So, not only was her younger brother working alongside her princess, but also her _king_? Who seemed more than happy to be working alongside Inklings? What was even going on in the world right now?

It was doubly confusing to see him fighting alongside THE Craig Cuttlefish. Any Octoling worth their salt water knew who Captain Cuttlefish was; he was the sort of person parents told their children about to ensure they behaved. He was a sort of boogie man, with the only difference being that Craig Cuttlefish was very much real.

Moving on from that, though, Octi couldn't help but pay close attention to the song that was playing. It was Squid Sisters, that much she knew, but it carried a tinge of Octarian to its beat, and that was without mentioning the welling feeling it was causing in her. It was... mystic, in a way.

She could see that the crowds at Moray were feeling that same energy as well. She believed she could make Specs and Headphones (if she remembered correctly) cheering along to the song, and she was sure that, at this point, they'd be feeling rather down.

The Octolings in the crowd seemed the most into it, she noticed. Was this the 'Calamari Inkantation' that she had heard so much about, then? She could get behind this, she thought.

* * *

  
  


The first four minutes passed in absolute mayhem.

To start, Captain Cuttlefish was proving himself to still be able to live up to the legends that surrounded him. While he did need longer to refill his ink tank, the simple fact was that he just couldn't get hit. For an old man, he was surprisingly agile when he wanted to be. That wasn't to say anything about his Bamboozler, either. It was an original model, so it actually managed to do more damage per shot. In short; old man outclasses them all.

Octavio, on the other hand, was more than content going one on one with Devil. The giant squid was just nimble enough to get around Octavio's big AOE attacks, and strong enough to go fist to fist with even the drill punches. Safe to say, they were both enjoying the exchange of blows they partook in.

Basic, Moni, and Ahato had taken to backing up the captain against the other member so former-team Old-School Literature. Not that the old man really needed the help, but they had to be somewhere.

And lastly, the OG quartet of Team Bangaichi were going 4 v 4 against the OG quartet of Team Idol-lescence. The only way it could be, after all. It was Dualies vs Dualies, Tenta Brella vs Heavy Splatling, Bloblobber vs Charger, and Squeezer vs Roller. Subs and Specials were flying left, right, up, and down. If the balance of turf control so much as tipped one way, it would quickly go back, and then forth again.

“We're coming into the final minute now, people!” Mesh announced. “I don't think I've ever seen a match as close as this! This is easily any-ones game!”

Pearl let off a grin. “Then, let's blow this stand!” she shouted, activating the Tenta Missiles Super.

Basic, noticing this, jumped back a few steps, and responded in kind. “Bring it on!” he shouted back. “I can do this too, you know!”

What followed was an onslaught of missiles that targeted all on the field. Most ended up getting splatted, and the few who didn't retreated back to spawn anyway. Those few included: Timey, Octavio, Cuttlefish, Callie, Pearl, and Devil.

“Devil!” Callie called as they landed. “Toss me to centre!”

“Roger!” he replied. The throw was akin to a super jump in its own rights, only with a greater deal of speed.

“'Tavio!” Timey shouted. “Launch me!”

“Don't die from it!” Octavio responded. When the Inkling landed on the Octobot King's fist, he launched the punch, throwing him with great velocity.

Twenty seconds on the clock. Noticing they had similar plans, Timey and Callie smirked, and activated a Splashdown each.

“It ain't done yet!” Pearl shouted, drawing forth the Princess Cannon.

“Bring the heat, squid!” Octavio shouted when he noticed the Cannon, pulling forth the in-built Killer Wail in his mech. “I'm about to drop you like a fresh beat!”

The beams collided, and unlike against Rider, these ones were closer to being evenly matched.

“Dont' count us out just yet!” Deej added, as he and the rest of Team Bangaichi pulled out either Tenta Missiles or a Sting Ray.

“Like we'll let you!” Marina responded, as she and the rest of her team did the same.

Five seconds left.

“Callie!” Timey shouted, as the two rocketed towards the ground. “I just want to say, this is the most fun I've had in a battle!”

“I hear ya, Tee!” Callie replied. “I glad this could be the finals!”

Three seconds left, and they were barely a metre from the ground.

“Callie! I just need to say...”

“Just gonna put this out there, Tee..!”

One second, and the Splashdowns land.

“I love you!”

The buzzer sounded.

“And that's that, folk!” Mesh spoke. “Dunno what those two splat birds were shouting about over all that chaos, but my Cod, what a finale! We... actually can't make an educated guess as to who won! The Judges are finishing their calculations as we speak. Who will walk home with a wish in the bank?!”

A drum roll could be heard from somewhere. “Our winners, the first champions of the Square Jokers Cup is... Team Idol-escence! By one blooming point!”

Cheers erupted throughout the area. Most were not too surprised to see that Team Bangaichi was also cheering Team Idol-escence's win.

Many were envious, though, to see Timey and Callie having a celebratory hug down in centre stage, or Ahato and Kashimi doing the same. Or the smooches Marie was giving to Shades and Moni, much to their embarrassment.

But that was none of their concern.

“So, with all that said and done,” Mesh continued, “I am proud to announce that the Square Jokers Tournament is now, officially, over!”

* * *

  
  


Callie and Marie found themselves walking down a particularly familiar part of town. It was the day following the finals, and they -as the defacto leaders of their team- were to head to a certain location for this whole 'wish granting' shebang.

Said location, as it turned out, was GrizzCo. Somehow, no one was surprised that this whole situation involved GrizzCo.

“About time you showed up, champs,” the bear statue known as Mr Grizz said. “Thought you'd've shown up yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, we were celebrating then,” Callie responded. “So what gives? Why go through all this trouble?”

“Gotta see what you kids are willing to put on the line,” Mr Grizz answered. “I was interested to see who had the drive to get what they wanted; what lengths people would go to, and for what.”

“So, what? This was a test of character?” Marie asked. “And what if the winner wanted something... immoral? What would you have done?”

“Depends on whether I could grant it,” he replied, and the Squid Sisters were positive he would have shrugged at this point. “There's only so much a guy like me can do. I can't, for instance, raise the dead.”

“Figures,” Callie muttered. “Kinda feel sad for Rider, now, all things considered.”

“With you on that one,” Grizz added. “Now, what will it be?”

“Don't suppose 'world peace' is on the table?” Marie asked, to be met with silence. “Figures. In that case, we may as well blow it on that question, then.”

“You wanna know if it is possible to revive the dead?” Grizz asked. “You sure you wanna blow it on that? The moment I answer, that'll be the end of this. No refunds. And don't think I'll be doing too many of these tourneys.”

“We talked it over with everyone,” Callie answered. “Realising we didn't exactly have any personal need for it, we thought it would either be this, or a banquet.” There was a brief pause. “You know, a banquet does sound nice, though.”

“Callie, you're forgetting that we're basically loaded,” Marie interrupted. “We could just have one all our own.”

Grizz let out a sigh. “So, will that be you're wish, then? An answer to whether it's possible to actually bring the dead back?” The Squid Sisters nodded in response. “Alright, then. The answer is... Yes. A way does exist. However, knowledge of it is beyond me.”

“Yeah, go figure,” Marie muttered. “Well, it's over now, so whatever. Let's bounce, Callie.”

“Right behind you, Marie!” Callie shouted, as the duo left.

Mr Grizz was left sitting (presumably. He is a wood carved bear, after all) by himself. “Interesting kids,” he muttered. “Well, guess that's Cuttlefish's line for ya.”

* * *

  
  


The following day, Rider found himself staking out the back alleys of Inkopolis. After a good while, he had finally decided that he had enough sulking, and felt the need to seek something out.

In particular, he needed to seek out that hooded man, and learn just what his endgame was. He had alluded to his own agenda when he gave him those weapons, after all, and Rider doubted it actually had to do with Bangaichi.

As turned around the next corner, though, he was met with a figure that was distinctly not the same as the one from a few days ago.

This new person was a male Inkling, if he could guess correctly (they were standing in the shadows, and it was rather cloudy today), dressed in some odd pair of headphones, heavy jacket, and runners. He was also wearing what Rider thought was a cape of some kind.

“If you're looking for your weapons broker,” the Inkling spoke, “then he's already been arrested.”

“What, he been on your radar for a while?” Rider asked, feeling ever so slightly peeved that he didn't get the chance to get some more answers.

“Only a few weeks,” came the reply. “Considering he was outed for forging contracts and creating illegal weaponry, the only place for Khan Sharkfin is behind bars.”

Sharkfin? That guy was the one who gave him those weapons. “So, that means his agenda was against the Squid Sisters?”

“In essence,” he responded.

“So, does that mean you're Squidlock Holmes?” Rider asked. “I'll be honest, you looked taller last time you showed up.”

The Inkling chuckled lightly. Rider noticed that it was a distinctly familiar chuckle. “No. That was a few associates of mine, done for the sake of anonymity. You can just call me Agent Three, though.”

Agent Three? That was... odd, to say the least. “You sure you should be revealing that fact to me?”

“It'll be fine,” Three answered. “Besides, who would believe something like 'secret agents', anyway?”

“Fair point, I guess.” Rider fell silent for a moment. “I'm guessing... that you know about the things I did recently?” Agent Three nodded. “Then... what do you think? Was it... wrong for me to want him back?”

The agent was silent for a moment. “Suppose I'll answer that question with a question,” he said. “Tell me, Rider, what lines would you be willing to cross?” Rider looked at the agent in confusion. “Would you sacrifice someone for the sake of another? Sacrifice one to save five, or five to save one? I want to know where you draw those lines.”

“The trolley dilemma?” Rider confirmed. He was familiar with the thought experiment. “I... I'm not sure I can safely answer that, given recent events. I'd like to say I'd save the five, but...”

Something told Rider that Agent Three was currently smiling patiently. “The fact that you hesitate still means you're a good person,” he said. “There's nothing wrong with wanting to be selfish every now and then.” He held a hand up, stopping Rider from trying to argue. “To open yourself up to others is to bring the risk of pain. To gain, one must be ready to lose. Sad as it is, that's just how life is.”

Rider let out a sigh. “Sucks, is what it does.”

Agent Three chuckled. “Yes. It does.” Silence fell, before he continued. “Something you might like to know, though: There is still the possibility to bring him back.”

Rider looked surprised. “What? How?!”

“We don't know,” Three responded. “Our source could only confirm a way existed. What it is, though, is anyone's guess.”

“And I'm guessing it doesn't involve Timey?”

“Depends,” Three responded. “You could always ask him for help.”

“I somehow doubt he'd be willing to help a guy like me.”

“You never know,” came the rather coy reply. “Well, I should get going. Got to keep some semblance of a social life going.”

“Wait!” Rider called. “What am I suppose to do with this information?”

“Whatever you want, really,” Three shrugged. “Just don't mistake anyone else for your friend, yeah? The odds of Inklings looking alike are 1/588, after all.”

And with that, the agent had jumped away. Rider was certainly left confused, but, in a way, he had a little bit of hope again.

* * *

  
  


“Yo, T-dog!” Deej shouted. “What took ya so long?”

“Sorry!” Timey called, readjusting his lab coat. “I just had some loose ends to tie up.”

“Geez, that just typical of you,” Shades muttered. “Just can't leave things for later, can you?”

“Well, he wouldn't be Timey otherwise,” Kashimi stated. “Would he really be him if he wasn't trying to do so much?”

“Yeah. Guess you're right, Eigh... er, Kashimi,” Shades corrected herself. “Cod, I still can't get use to that.”

“Right with ya on that one,” Deej agreed. “So, we ready to get this show on the road?”

“Yeah,” Timey replied. “It's been a while since we were this stress-free. It's kinda nice.”

“What do you mean, kinda?” Shades asked incredulously, flicking Timey on the nose. “For once in the past one to two years, none of us have any baggage. The only one I'm still up in the air about this is Deej, but he's far too positive for his own good.”

“Damn right I am.”

Timey let off a calm chuckle. “Alright, alright. You've made your point,” he said.

Kashimi giggled at the exchange. “You know, we're really looking like more of a team now,” she said. “Back then, we were more just a group that feigned cooperation and friendship, and look at us now.”

A smile was shared amongst the team. “Yeah, we've come a long way in the past few months,” Timey said. “And we'll go further yet.” The four members of Team Bangaichi turned to face the lobby. “Watch out, world, 'cause here we come!”

* * *

  
  


As the day kicked off, the train pulled into the station, and a lone Octoling took her first nervous steps towards a new future.

* * *

  
  


You Know The Name:

Despite it all, I'm still me.

Although we fought, we were still taught.

And haven't you heard? We're Bangaichi!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh man. Here we are, at the end for this story.  
> Of course, that doesn't quite mean I'm done with these characters (I mean, I did post The Splatocalypse Cometh before this), but this part of their lives now has a neat little bow on it.  
> I'm sure it's a surprise that our favourite idols actually won the finals, and the reason for that really boils down to the fact that I subverted things before by defeating Rider in the semis, so might as well go the whole hog.  
> Besides, win or lose, there were no real stakes involved aside from having fun.  
> For now, though, I'd like to mention the 'what could have been's of this story. Y'know, for fun.  
> First and foremost, would be the fact that Timey and Shades were originally not going to be Agents Three and Four. Instead, they were just going to be Eighter/Kashimi's named team mates. Agent Four was still going to have that whole 'racist' problem to her, and Agent Three was still a nice dude, but they were not related to Bangaichi. They were quickly merged into being the same characters not long after the first part.  
> Next was pairing Timey/Agent Three up with Marina. Strong stance, I know. After some time, though, I felt Timey worked best being paired with Callie. The entire basis for a Timey x Marina relationship would have tied back into that hospital incident from early on, and lead into Timey helping Marina get a footing in Inkopolis. On the subject of Marina, though, those reading this on AO3 probably noticed I removed the Marina/Pearl tag. This was mostly because, if I didn't, it would have just been there for click-bait. I would have ended up doing next to nothing with it, so why claim it was there? Pearl was kinda more of supporting cast in this story, anyway (not to say I don't like her, but Team Order FTW).  
> Next up, and I've probably already mentioned this, was Basic. He was originally just a throwaway character, before being put on Bangaichi to basically (ha) keep the squid/gender balance of the team. Afterwards, he kinda spiralled into his own thing.  
> At one point, I even considered making Timey/Agent Three actually being Goggles, believe it or not. The way this would have been was a falling out between him and Specs, caused by Specs wanting to focus more on the professional aspects of Splat Battles, and Goggles just wanting to have fun, leading to the disbanding of Team Blue. This was scraped rather quickly, as I just wanted Timey to be his own character.  
> I'm pretty sure the only character to stay true to original plans was Deej. He may have only been a supporting main character, but damn if he wasn't one of the best boys.  
> Heck, even Tartar wasn't in the original plan. I decided to add him in mostly because 'redeeming villains' is a trope I like very much. And besides, who wouldn't see the best in society by being in the head of someone like Timey?  
> Next will have to be the inclusion of Moni. As I pressed forward, I felt I couldn't properly portray Shades as some who's actively racist, outside of the few instances in early chapters. So, I made it her backstory. As for the team she was on, Old-School Literature, that part wasn't set in stone. Teams Old-School Literature and Arland were both kind of throw away team names I drew from a hat (as were the rest of them, sans X-Blood), and a basically flipped a coin as to which team she was on.  
> Finally, the last thing I'll cover is the finals. It was originally going to be the climactic Bangaichi vs Sunlight-Yellow-Green, and ending with Timey making good on that threat of winning by three points. Was going to top it off with a good old 'say my name' scene.  
> And so, we'll end this off here. While Strangers Like Them has concluded, the tales that are the Heart of Matters shall continue.  
> Allons'y!


End file.
